


Backs Against the Wall

by annaregina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Depression, Discussions of Past Abusive Relationships, Eating Disorders, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship, Good and Evil, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Multi, Not Fully Canon Compliant, Not everyone lives sorry, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Racism, References to Depression, Romance, Suicidal Ideation, again not a major plot point but still there, first wizarding war, mason is HOT and no one can take that away from me looking at you daniel, not massive just small references!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2020-11-26 00:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 139,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaregina/pseuds/annaregina
Summary: "Darkness will fall, we never quite thought we could lose it all"1980. The First Wizarding War is at its peak. People are dying, people are vanishing. Chaos reigns. Falling in love right now is impractical, Lyra reminds herself. She's dealing with far too much as it is, which is why it's so fucking annoying that she can't get him out of her head. ((Own characters, Auror Training AU, all the tropes, all your faves are here))





	1. September 1980

_September 1st 1980_

"Alright, you lot, shut your mouths," Mad-Eye Moody said as he limped to the front of the room, the hushed conversations falling silent immediately. "Welcome to the first ten week training camp for the Auror programme."

The excitement bubbled over again until he raised a hand, silencing them once more. Lyra watched his every move carefully. She'd met Mad Eye Moody only once but it was enough to know that the man was unpredictable.

"This isn't summer camp. We're not going to sing songs and hold hands while we skip in circles. It's going to be brutal. You're going to hate me – oh believe me, I know you don't think it now but you will – and you're going to hurt in places you didn't know it was possible to hurt. You're going to hate the sound of this cane of mine. But you're also going to be up to scratch by the time we're through or so help you… There's a war going on out there, in case you haven't noticed, and we don't have time for idiots who want to play at being heroes."

His words sank in like a pebble dropping through deep water and the silence in the room grew thicker. Everyone, including Lyra, knew about the war. It was hard not to. Muggles being killed, attacks on wizarding communities, the throbbing green skulls in the sky over houses signalling terror and torture. She paled slightly, hoping that Moody knew she wasn't here to play games. He had seemed to understand, but had made it very clear that she would still have to earn her place like any other recruit.

"Being an Auror isn't just a job. This isn't for the faint hearted. You're not going to speak to the outside world for these ten weeks and even then you might not make it through to the next stage so listen carefully and pay attention," Moody continued, his voice carrying through the rows of young witches and wizards.

He scanned the faces of everyone slowly as they held their breath, before he pointed his cane at a dark haired, dark eyed girl at the front. "You. What are the seven uses of dragon blood?"

Lyra frowned and opened her mouth. "There are twelve uses of-"

An explosion of blue light flew towards her, dissipating inches from her nose as she threw up a hasty shield charm, dragging her wand out from her robes. Blinking slowly, she stared at Moody in shock.

Another beam of light sped towards a blonde boy at the back of the room, but no shield charm appeared in time and he was blasted backwards off his chair, hitting the floor with a thud; by now, the rest of the room had their wands out, every pair of eyes wide.

"Lyra Black, right?" Moody asked, jabbing the cane towards the girl.

"Right, Sir," she responded, wand still out.

He nodded appreciatively and made a gruff noise. "Clever girl. Everyone take a leaf out of Lyra's book here, and step it up."

She didn't bother to smile – everyone knew that was only the first test.

Moody began pacing the front of the room, making everyone just nervous enough to keep their wands closer than before. "Now I am an extremely busy man, so I will not be overseeing your training yet. That pleasure falls to Auror McKinnon." He turned and swivelled the infamous eye towards the door. "AUROR MCKINNON."

As if on cue, which it very probably was, the door opened and a young man strode in, twirling his wand in his fingers and smirking. "You called?"

Moody rolled both eyes and jerked a finger towards the recruits. "This is your lot. They're all idiots, you've got your work cut out for you."

Auror McKinnon laughed. "You say this every year, Moody. I'll manage."

Moody snorted and gestured to the raised stage. "Don't fuck it up."

McKinnon's smirk only grew as he nodded, making Moody chuckle as he made his way out, the magical eye whirling in its socket.

"Alright now the old man has gone, I'm Mason McKinnon and I run Auror boot camp," he grinned, tucking his wand away and folding his arms across his chest. "Think the Muggle army camps but worse, because we can hurt you more and fix you right back up again."

The Pureblood recruits looked confused while the rest grimaced slightly. Lyra's expression remained perfectly blank and she just shifted in her seat slightly as she fully recognised the man standing in front of her: Mason McKinnon was the year above Sirius, but the two had both been part of the Gryffindor gang responsible for most of the chaos at Hogwarts. Being a couple of years younger than Sirius, being in Slytherin and not being a blood traitor meant that Lyra had never spoken to Mason – and had never wanted to, thank you very much – but she knew full well the man was at least partially responsible for Sirius leaving home.

"So to kick start a fun ten weeks, we're going to go and get changed into training gear and then meet for some exercise!" he said, a glint in his eye. "Did you seriously think it was all going to be duelling?"

Quite a few people groaned, and Lyra's heart privately sank. Compared to some of the boys here, she was a foot shorter, 30 kilos lighter and skinny to boot. If this was anything close to physical contact, she was going to be kicked out immediately.

"You've been assigned dorms – girls, there's only one room of you so that should be easy to work out. Head there, get changed and meet at the field in fifteen minutes," Mason said lazily, glancing at his watch. "No wands."

Well shit, she thought, she'd be on the first Portkey home. Grimacing, she picked up her bag from under the chair and slipped out of the row of chairs, following the excited stream of wizards out into the corridor and down the dorm rooms.

* * *

Mason was already in training gear so he went outside right away to wait, spinning the whistle round his finger as he paced at the starting line.

The silence gave him to reflect on the miserable lot he'd got this year. Compared to the previous year, numbers were definitely up (more people than ever wanted to help) but with only one female dorm and only one Muggleborn in the whole programme, the brewing war was certainly having an impact on the makeup of the group. They'd figured that no one wanted to be a double target; Muggleborns were either finding safer jobs or avoiding the magical world altogether and more and more of the female Hogwarts graduates were being funnelled straight into healing or Ministry desk jobs and steering clear of the traditionally male jobs. Even the thought made his lip curl slightly, but he looked up from the turf as the first few recruits came jogging over.

He rolled his shoulders and smiled tightly. "Okay, so I know you all had to pass certain tests before you got here, but we're going to start with a simple fitness circuit anyway. It's been a while since you were tested, and I want to see where we're at for myself. Do a lap of the field, and we'll go from there."

A group of lads who'd clearly already teamed up broke into a fast jog immediately, and the rest trailed after them. The girl with the serious eyes that Mason remembered from the front of the room before rolled her eyes and set off too, clearly pacing herself.

Smart, Mason thought. The lads at the front were clearly trying way too hard already and he could tell they were going to be dicks.

Once they were back, he brought out the blackboard, tapping it once with his wand to reveal the list of exercises. Quite a few people looked horrified, and Mason grinned smugly.

"Pair up and get on with it – I'd do it with you but… I don't need to. I'm making notes too, so don't slack off or fuck around."

Serious Girl clenched her jaw slightly but turned to the one member of the group already familiar to Mason and one by one, the pairs started working their way through the list. Mason wondered if there was any weight at all on some of them – Serious Girl especially, who he found himself looking at solely because she looked so out of place amongst the muscled boys around her with her sharp cheekbones and her collarbones that he thought a good kick could snap in two. Even if they'd all passed the basic fitness requirements, these ten weeks were going to be grim.

Lyra was only half way through but she felt like she was going to throw up. She'd trained for the initial test, passed it by the skin of her teeth and hadn't been able to train at all since she'd finished Hogwarts and gone home for the summer, her mother's restrictions meaning that any progress she had made in the privacy of the school's extensive grounds was quickly undone.

The girl she was partnered with, Dorcas, was slim like she was, but was wiry and strong and a year older than herself and if it wasn't for Dorcas' reassuring smiles and the judgemental look of Auror McKinnon, Lyra would've stopped already.

"Ten more, come on," Dorcas grinned, holding Lyra's feet steady as she forced herself to sit up again. "I know you've got it in you, and I know my mum packed me plenty of chocolate cake – half of it is yours if you finish."

Lyra laughed breathlessly, leaning back and then curling her spine once again as she shook her head. "I _have_ to finish. And I don't eat chocolate."

"Not the point, and you'll want the chocolate after this."

Lyra nodded, gritted her teeth and ground out the last few with robotic movements before collapsing back down with a huff.

"Congratulations," Auror McKinnon said from above, holding his hand out and helping her up. She accepted the help only because her stomach felt like it was tearing itself apart.

"Thanks," she muttered, smoothing her hair down and grabbing her fleece off the floor. She wiped the smudge of makeup from under her eyes and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Did the others go back inside already?" Dorcas asked, looked far more cheerful than Lyra did.

Mason nodded. "Yeah, I sent them back in when they finished up. Just go back to the dorms and unpack for now, one of the others will be along in a bit to give you more information."

Lyra glanced back towards the building and scowled – they were the last ones out here and the others had to be laughing. The blonde boy who'd fallen off his chair clearly already had it in for her after Moody had laughed at him inside and she didn't need this too.

"Hey," Mason said, raising an eyebrow as he watched her, "It's the first day, don't stress. I wasn't taking notes on ability, mostly just who I think is going to be a twat, that's it."

Lyra nodded sharply and just stomped past, focussing on the hot shower she was going to have rather than the future ten weeks of failing miserably. She knew she'd been shit, and his pity compliment did nothing to improve her mood. So much rested on this, she was risking far too much to take her failure well.

Dorcas winced. "Homesick, maybe?"

Mason just laughed and shrugged. "You think I care? She finished, some people don't even do that."

Dorcas laughed too, the musical sound reaching Lyra's burning red ears as she stalked off. "See you later, McKinnon," Dorcas said teasingly, before running to catch up to her new friend.

* * *

"Do you know McKinnon already?" Lyra asked, slowly scraping the last of the shared chocolate cake onto her fork, glancing across at Dorcas from under her eyelashes. The girl was obviously determined to be friends with her as she'd followed her into the cafeteria and Lyra appreciated it even if it wasn't something she was used to. All of her friends from school were only her friends because their families were, not because they genuinely cared about each other. She wouldn't miss any of them.

Dorcas grinned, "Why do you think that?"

"Well you either know him already or you want to shag him, there's no other explanation for how friendly you were before."

Dorcas rolled her eyes and wiped her finger around the plate to scoop up the icing. "I sort of knew him from Hogwarts, both in Gryffindor and all that. But no, I don't really know him already."

"So you _do_ want to shag him?" Lyra smirked, leaning back on the dining hall chair and folding her arms.

"Jesus Christ, he's hot but I'm not going to shag the instructor," she snorted. "I don't swing that way."

"Oh!" Lyra said, flustered. No one in her family was anything like that and she wasn't sure if she was going to seem like a twat. She'd only ever been told bad things about that kind of person but Dorcas was already disproving most of them.

"Oh indeed," she sniggered. "So he's all yours," Dorcas fired back, waggling her eyebrows.

"If I'd wanted to find a man, I would've stayed at home, thank you very much."

"Of course, you're here to be very serious, to work hard and become a respectable Auror," Dorcas teased, standing up and gathering up their plates to take back to the hatch at the end of the room.

Lyra followed, giving her a look. "Yes, that's very much the point of being here. Why else would anyone be here?"

Leaning in, Dorcas smirked conspiratorially, "Is that why you're here immediately after graduating and not a year later as per the rules?"

Lyra's smile dropped slightly, but she recovered and shrugged. "Why would you think that?"

"Well I was Prefect for my year, you absolutely weren't my year at Hogwarts and I'll be damned if you're a year older than me. Process of elimination," she shrugged. "But don't worry, your secret's safe with me. And I won't even pry if you don't want me to."

"I'd appreciate that, yeah," Lyra muttered. "I'm lucky to be here, and I don't want to risk it by letting everyone know."

"Sure thing," Dorcas said easily, nudging her side as she scraped her plate and dropped the cutlery into the washing up bowls before miming zipping her lips. "Like I said, secret's safe with me."

"Thanks," Lyra smiled. She actually believed Dorcas would keep that promise, and she was grateful. "And in return, I won't tell anyone that you brought a teddy with you to Auror training."

"Mr Snuggles is a very important part of my life, I _have_ to have him here!"

"You're going to be a terrifying Auror," she drawled.

"Don't you know it," Dorcas smirked, "Fear my wrath, and that of Mr Snuggles!"

* * *

Mason knocked on Moody's office door and entered before he'd replied, knowing that Moody wouldn't care – he hated time wasting more than he hated people forgetting formalities. "Daily report, Boss."

"Go on, fill me in I suppose," Moody said, dropping the file he'd been reading down onto his desk and leaning back, the chair sighing as well as the man.

"They're actually not half bad," Mason admitted, settling into the chair on the other side of the desk. "Some of the guys are the kind of guys I'd have punched at school, but should shape up to be decent Aurors. The girls are… varying. Dorcas is good, as expected, the others are completely average and then there's-"

"Let me guess, Lyra Black?"

Mason looked surprised that the older man knew the name already, because he couldn't possibly think of what she would've done to stand out to Moody in the ten minutes they'd been in the same room. Even Mason had had to check the list to find out her name. "Uh, yeah, actually."

Moody huffed. "What I tell you can't leave this room. I'm not telling the other instructors because it really won't affect them at all once we're past the physical stage, but seeing as you've already noticed, I'm going to have to tell you."

"Moody, she's shit," Mason said, exasperated. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she finished and didn't throw up, but she was there ten minutes after everyone else. She's as skinny as a rake, I could break her with my pinkie finger."

The Head Auror huffed again. "Yes."

"How did she pass the initial fitness test, seriously?" Mason laughed.

"She passed, but that's not relevant. She's here under special circumstances."

"Sirius doesn't even speak to her, there is no way he'd have put in this request!"

"Would you let me finish, McKinnon?" Moody snapped, and Mason closed his mouth firmly, knowing when to stop.

"She's here under special circumstances – not because Sirius spoke to me, but because she did," he explained calmly, flicking his wand to lock the office door and casting muffliato to ensure that no one outside heard even a snippet of the conversation.

"She _what_?"

"She came into the Department right after graduation this year to personally hand me her application and-"

"She's only just graduated? She's eighteen?!" Mason choked.

"McKinnon, I swear to Merlin," Moody said tightly, "Yes, she's only eighteen. No, that's not in line with policy. Yes, I will explain if you let me."

Mason ran a hand through his hair agitatedly but nodded. "Sure, yeah."

Mad-Eye re-opened the file in front of him and flicked back to the front before sliding it across the desk to Mason, who snatched it up, scanning the document.

"What the fuck?"

"Now do you see?" Moody said calmly, his magical eye focussing in on his second in command.

Clearing his throat, Mason nodded slowly and dropped the folder back onto the table. Her black and white photograph seemed to stare back up at him accusingly, making him feel guilty although he didn't quite know why. It was a magical photo, but she was barely moving, just blinking occasionally with a ferocity in her eyes that survived through the low quality of the photo itself. The lack of colour made her look even thinner than she was in real life.

"You will get her up to standard, because she isn't going to go home at the end of Phase One. Do you understand?" Mad-Eye Moody said, his voice as serious as Mason had ever heard it. "She is going to pass those exams with flying colours."

Mason stayed quiet for a short beat, watching his boss.

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

The end of each week was a rest day. McKinnon seemed to find that funny – some Muggle religious thing that Lyra didn't understand and didn't have the energy to care about – but as she was finishing up the 10km run that Saturday, Lyra could only feel horrifically relieved that she had a full day in bed tomorrow.

Dorcas had already finished the run, of course, but Lyra wasn't actually at the back which made her far more pleased than she really should be because she was still way below the level she needed to be. Trailing across the finish line, Lyra bent over double and gratefully took the water bottle that Dorcas offered her, lungs heaving.

"Hey, you beat your personal best!" her friend tried, checking the stop clock around McKinnon's neck and grinning.

Lyra scowled as she straightened up and shook her head. "Hard to do worse than my personal best, honestly."

"At least you already know that," McKinnon said calmly, writing the time down on the clipboard in his hand.

She huffed at him as she turned away to grab her jacket off the fence and Dorcas made an 'I don't know why he's being crabby either' look. "Someone clearly didn't sleep well."

"Hair's looking a little crazy, Black," a voice interrupted arrogantly. Edgar Bones, the blonde boy from the first day, smiled, pushing off the fence and tugging on the end of her ponytail. "You remind me of someone, it's bugging me."

She jutted her chin out and stepped backwards, out of his reach. "Don't touch me, thanks."

"Awh, a little sweat never bothered me," he grinned, a glint in his eyes.

She just ignored him and pulled the jacket on to keep the biting chill away, moving away from him and his gang quickly. The training centre wasn't in the Ministry itself, but in a Ministry Auror compound somewhere (they hadn't told them where for security reasons) in the countryside. The temperature was great when you were running and trying desperately not to overheat, but once you stopped, it was grim.

"Is he being weird again?" Dorcas said, her nose crinkling up as she jerked her head towards Edgar.

"When is he not weird? Boys are strange," Lyra snorted. "Let's get out of here. Between McKinnon and Bones I don't want to see another guy until Monday."

"Here here," Dorcas grinned, jogging backwards in front of her, "Monday, when you kick all their asses! Girl power!"

Lyra snorted. "I really hate your optimism sometimes, Dorcas."

* * *

Lyra had spent a lot of her life dealing with things one day at a time, and Phase One was certainly no exception. Each day she woke up with bruises in places she couldn't see and fought to get enough food down to give her the energy to get through the gruelling training programme. It didn't help that McKinnon seemed to be the most inconsistent instructor: some days he was lovely and almost friendly, other days he looked like he'd been hit by the Night Bus and had an attitude to match. It was exhausting and a little concerning and she was getting sick of having to tiptoe around him. Mostly she got through on pure rage, Dorcas' never wavering support and pleasure at imagining a million different ways she was going to beat McKinnon up once she passed the training.

Matters escalated in week three, once a few of the others had clocked just who she was related to. Edgar Bones had slammed a Ministry issued wanted poster in front of her one evening as her and Dorcas sat around one of the small tables in the corner of the rec room.

"Who is this?" Emma Vanity snapped from just behind Edgar, fists clenched.

Lyra looked up from her book and blinked slowly, reading the poster and paling slightly.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Lyra said quietly, feeling Dorcas' concerned eyes on her from across the table.

"And who is she?" Emma snapped.

Lyra didn't reply.

"Who. Is. She?"

"My cousin," Lyra answered, voice even quieter now, barely above a whisper.

"Your cousin," she hissed, leaning down and jabbing a finger towards the picture. "I knew you looked familiar."

"What do you want me to say?" Lyra asked, glancing up at the furious girl.

"Nothing! Don't say anything, you bitch!"

Edgar put his hand on Emma's shoulder and straightened up. "What is a baby Death Eater doing at Auror training?"

Dorcas paled, her warm brown eyes darting worriedly between Edgar and Lyra, who looked like she was about to faint. "Guys…"

"I'm not a Death Eater," Lyra said firmly.

"Show us your arm!" Emma snapped.

Dorcas laughed nervously. "Come on. This is insane!" She hadn't pried into Lyra's life just as she'd requested but she knew that she wasn't bad, it was obvious to see to anyone with common sense.

"If she's not a Death Eater she should have no problem showing us her arm," Edgar said, voice level. Somehow, he made it seem like a perfectly reasonable request.

"I don't have to prove anything to you," Lyra retorted, shrugging. "I am not my cousin."

"You shouldn't be here," Davey Gudgeon said, speaking for the first time and not daring to meet Lyra's eye. "We know you're not old enough, and your family are all Dark Wizards, so how are you here?"

Lyra swallowed and pushed the poster away, glancing to her side and seeing that Dorcas had vanished. She felt a hollow stab of betrayal. "I applied and I got accepted, the same as you."

"Bullshit," Emma spat, stepping closer. "Either Daddy paid your way in, or you fucked someone, or you're here so they can keep an eye on you. What would you be doing at home? Torturing Muggleborns or marrying some rich Pureblood and popping out even more Blood Purists?"

"What the fuck have I ever done to you?!" Lyra finally snapped, grabbing her things up and side stepping around the trio. "Seriously? I've never even spoken to you!"

"Your cousin tortured and murdered Dave's aunt and her children and left their bodies hanging under the Dark Mark," Emma laughed coldly, "You don't belong here."

Shaking her head, Lyra held her hands up. "Davey, I'm sorry, that's… awful, I don't know what to say. But that wasn't _me_!"

"Black, don't kid yourself," Edgar said coolly, "You're no good, you'll be sent home in eight weeks anyway, so why not just leave now and go back to sucking Daddy off or something. Surely you've got some fancy wedding to plan? Your lot have spent years casting anyone out who wasn't 'pure' enough, now it's our turn."

Lyra wanted to scream – she couldn't win, could she? At home she was too close to the 'wrong side' of the war and here she was too. She could feel the tears burning in her eyes, but she refused to let them see it. Snatching up the poster, she screwed it up and thrust it at Edgar's chest, narrowing her eyes. "Would you just leave me the fuck alone? I've done nothing! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I've been asking myself the same thing," called a cold voice from the other side of the room.

Edgar, Emma and Davey turned quickly, and Emma took a timid step backwards.

"Auror McK-"

"No, go on, Bones, please continue," Mason said with false brightness, "I believe you were at the bit where you mentioned incest and arranged marriages, so I'm assuming something about her appearance or her sex life was next? Just a guess though!"

"I-I wasn't going to-"

"Oh you _weren't_? You were done? I arrived in time to hear the end then!" he said sweetly. "Lucky me!"

Lyra flushed red but kept watching Edgar with anger-darkened eyes. Mason noticed and jerked his head towards the door. "Get out. All of you. I don't want to see any of you until tomorrow. You're lucky I'm not reporting this to Auror Moody but don't think I'll forget."

Everyone in the rec room started filing out not just the three involved, an awkward silence filling the space where before there had been casual conversations and the sound of the radio. Lyra shouldered her bag and tried to slip out with Dorcas but Mason caught her sleeve gently and tugged her back.

"Not you, Black."

She groaned and closed her eyes, tipping her head back. "Fine."

Dorcas gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, nodded at Mason quickly and vanished around the corner too. Once the room was empty except for the two of them, Lyra sat down heavily on one of the sofas and crossed her legs, fiddling with the strap of her bag.

"What the hell did I walk in to?" Mason asked, voice far too calm to actually be calm.

"I don't know! Why are you asking _me_ this?!" she snapped.

"Because I want to hear it from you before I talk to them."

"Well I don't want to tell you. Just forget it, okay? It's not a big deal, and the fact that you had to come and intervene just makes it look even worse!" Lyra muttered. "It's not like it's not warranted. I've been waiting for someone to put two and two together."

"So you are a Death Eater, you did sleep with someone to get accepted and you are going back home to plan your Pureblood fantasy wedding?" he said bluntly.

She flinched. "We both know you don't like me, so can you just stop the interrogation and let me go?"

His expression softened. "Look, I'm sorry I got involved, I know that might not have helped. Dorcas ran and fetched me when she saw it getting dirty, and you shouldn't have to deal with it. I'd help even if it wasn't my job, I don't dislike you, Lyra."

"That's news to me. You've been a dick to me pretty regularly." Lyra looked up and met his gaze suddenly. "I know you know my brother. I know you know that he left home," she said, failing to keep all of the bitterness out of her voice. "Other people know he did too. So when they look at me and see a mini-Bellatrix and see I was in Slytherin, see that I'm living at home, see that I don't talk to… to Sirius," she said, stumbling over his name, "What are they supposed to assume?"

He sighed and leaned against the table, watching her thoughtfully. "Well they shouldn't assume any of that, that's for sure. And I dunno if it's just that picture or not, I've never had the pleasure of meeting your cousin, but you're far nicer to look at. And me being a dick isn't personal, I'm sorry it's come across that way. I've got… a lot on my shoulders at the minute. I'm not dealing with it too well."

She laughed nervously and tugged on the end of her ponytail. "Thanks, I guess. For the compliment and the apology."

"You know, Moody showed me your file?"

Lyra stiffened, letting her hand drop from her hair to grip her other hand reflexively, her back straightening.

"He's asked me to make sure we get you up to the right level for now. Apparently you're going to ace the magical section," Mason shrugged. "I didn't read much more, but I'm not going to let you fail, you understand me? I think you're talented, just maybe not at sit ups. Okay?"

She licked her lips and bobbed her head. "Okay."

"And it's not exactly secret knowledge but the gym is open all day every day, I'm sure Dorcas would help you out, or you can come and find me."

"I'm not going to encourage rumours I'm sleeping with someone for my spot here," Lyra warned. "Private tutoring would absolutely do that."

"Touché," Mason chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. "But the offer still stands. Eat more protein and keep practising. You've got two months."

She offered him a small grateful smile and nodded.

"Do you want me to speak to the others?"

"No, please don't. It'd hardly make a difference to how they see me, and it might just make it worse," she muttered.

Mason grumbled under his breath. "Fine. But if it happens again, tell me anyway?"

"Sure," she said tiredly, "Can I go now?"

He sighed, but nodded. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow."

"Don't remind me," she laughed slightly, brushing past him. "Night."

Mason silently watched her go, rubbing his eyes once her slender form vanished from view. "Night, Lyra."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So I've finally got an Ao3 account after being solely on fanfic.net for my entire life lol so please let me know if you see anything that isn't right or you'd like changing I am very new here!! This is my first fic in years, there's about 70,000 more words where this came from so I'll be updating semi-regularly as I go along and edit etc. This is my little Marauders Era OC baby and I promise the canon characters will all play massive roles don't worry!! Hope you enjoy!


	2. September 1980

_September 15th 1980_

Dorcas had to shake Lyra several times to get her up when the alarm went off at 6am that morning, and all she got was a pillow to the face for her efforts.

"You're going to miss breakfast if you don't get up now," Dorcas protested, whacking her back with the pillow in revenge. "And you know McKinnon will make you regret it. So come on!"

"I don't wanna," Lyra mumbled, but she sat up reluctantly and swung herself out of bed. "I _really_ don't wanna, Doe."

Dorcas pouted at her and ruffled her curls. "I know, me neither, but only eight weeks left of Phase One! Then we get to the good stuff, shadowing an actual Auror!"

"I'm so excited for the duelling in a fortnight," Lyra admitted, dragging on a jumper she'd stolen from Dorcas and yawning as she followed her out towards the canteen. Most of her clothes were the training clothes she'd bought the moment she was out of Grimmauld Place or ones she'd adopted from Dorcas' suitcase – her parents wouldn't have approved of jogging bottoms, jumpers or trainers so Lyra hadn't even tried to buy any before leaving and had no need for any of her dresses here.

"I know you are, sweetie," she grinned, giving Edgar a hard stare as they headed in, warning him to stay well away.

Lyra didn't say anything and didn't look in Edgar's direction. He and the others hadn't said anything to her since the rec room incident which she was grateful for but she didn't want to push it; McKinnon had warned her that they were going to start hand to hand combat within the week and the last thing she needed was to be paired up with an angry Edgar.

The breakfast was always good and so she made an effort to load her plate up with more than she thought was necessary. She hated eating this much but without it, she wouldn't be standing. They burned through so many calories daily that it was all she could do to keep up with her body's demands.

Dorcas gave her an approving look as Lyra sat down next to her with a full plate. "At least you're eating."

Lyra gave her a look. "I thought we agreed we didn't need to discuss this."

"We won't discuss you specifically, but we sure can discuss the disgusting ways that Pureblood traditions oppress women and-"

"Dorcas, it's alright, I'm eating," Lyra laughed, shaking her head.

It had been a struggle, though. At home, her mother watched what she ate, making sure she wasn't gaining weight or looking unladylike and the amount of dinner parties she'd attended over the summer where she'd been instructed to first drink water to suppress her appetite or had only been allowed a tiny plate of food was in the hundreds by now. It was still challenging to see a plate of food as necessary and not something she was going to be punished for even if she logically knew the restrictions were bullshit.

"Ready for the start of the new section?" McKinnon said, stopping behind them as Dorcas turned and grinned up at him.

"I was born ready," she joked, making him laugh.

"I actually don't doubt that you were. Lyra, what about you?"

"Are you joking? Clearly I'm not ready."

He shrugged. "I don't know, you've looked a lot better this week. Sometimes you hit a wall and then once you're through that it's easy."

"Don't get me wrong," Lyra said, stirring her porridge thoughtfully, "I can see the improvement too. It just doesn't make me ready to fight people without a wand."

Mason laughed. "They won't know what's hit them, I mean it. You're faster and lighter on your feet than a lot of them, and they won't expect you to be any good."

"Uh, thanks, I think," she drawled.

"I didn't say anything about _my_ predictions, I'm expecting great things," he grinned, shrugging. "See you later."

"Byeeee," Dorcas called, turning back to her food happily. "I for one think you're going to kick ass, remember-"

"Let me guess, girl power?" Lyra snorted.

"Precisely! You know me so well."

* * *

The room felt like something out of a cliched young adult book Dorcas would read with its concrete surfaces and smooth pillars down the middle, splitting up the room but leaving space in the middle for the tape-marked square. The comparison was only highlighted by the fact that they were going to learn how to fight here. Lyra glanced around at the punching bags and the floor mats and grimaced in preparation. Being physically fit was only the first step and now they had to know how to fight if they found themselves wandless – so here they were, barely an hour after breakfast, gathered around in a loose circle with McKinnon in the middle looking, as always, smug as hell.

"I hope no one ate too much at breakfast, because one punch to the gut and it's going to be all over your shoes," he called to gather everyone's attention.

Dorcas sniggered and McKinnon grinned at her, making Lyra roll her eyes. There was definitely something more to their relationship than they were letting on but no matter how much Lyra tried to sneak it into conversation, Dorcas had made it very clear they only knew each other from being in the same Hogwarts house. Naturally, Lyra didn't believe her; that could be because the environment in Slytherin wasn't the same, but she hadn't known anyone outside of her year, let alone someone a good few years above. Not well enough to joke around like they did, anyway.

Emma Vanity raised her hand. "Are we actually going to be fighting each other? That seems a bit… wrong."

"Not today you aren't. We're just going to start with the basics, learning punches, stances, defensive moves mostly. But eventually, yes, you'll fight each other. Not aiming to seriously injure – magic can only patch you up so much – but to get a feel for it, learning how to anticipate someone's actions."

"Why do we need to know this? We'll have our wands." Edgar snorted.

"And what happens if you lose it? Or it snaps? I've been there, I fell down and snapped it and funnily enough I can't always do wandless magic."

"You can do it though?" Edgar replied, blue eyes wide in surprise. It was, even amongst elite wizards, a rare skill.

Mason shrugged. "I have been known to do it. Not reliably, hence why this is important. And anyway, magic isn't always the answer. Sometimes a good punch will get you much further," he grinned.

Dorcas sniggered and rolled back on her heels, itching to get started.

"Okay, I'll demonstrate the stance and a few basic punches and then I'll expect you to pair off and practise. Don't go too hard, don't injure yourself, there's cloths to wrap around your hands in the corner because the punching bags will rip them to shreds otherwise," Mason called, moving over to the closest bag and falling into position fluidly. It was obvious he was good even to Lyra's untrained eye.

"Thumbs on the outside of your fist or you'll break it every time you punch. Feet shoulder width apart, shoulders loose or again, you'll dislocate one."

Everyone mimicked him where they stood and watched his movements closely.

"The trick with fighting like this is obviously to hurt them but mostly just to be faster than them. Keep your distance, focus on landing one or two decent hits rather than going all in, getting hurt yourself and not being able to disengage. Guys are sensitive in the groin, sure, but girls aren't exactly immune to it either," he said, demonstrating the punches in between his sentences, "Elbows and knees are stronger than fists, and if you have longer nails aim for the eyes, the backs of the ears."

Lyra listened closely to it all. Some of the boys were getting distracted already and were drifting towards the punching bags, eager to try for themselves and assuming that a few fist fights at Hogwarts qualified them as experts. She knew that McKinnon wouldn't waste words, and that the information he was giving them was going to be crucial.

"Lastly, for those of you still listening, the stance I've been doing here looks great but is very easily defeated by a swift kick to the back of the knees. If you stand like this, however," he said, shifting his feet with a broad grin on his face, "You'll not be as much at risk of that."

Lyra snorted, as did the others and then once he'd finished talking, they broke off into their pairs to practise. She and Dorcas naturally went together, taking it in turns to punch the bag hanging in front of them.

"Black, you're standing wrong," Edgar said loudly. Him and Davey were at the bag next to the girls and he wandered over when he saw Lyra punching, Dorcas steadying the bag and spotting for her.

"Give me a fucking _break_," she huffed under her breath, throwing a particularly hard punch and then stepping back, face settling into a pleasant smile as she settled on a revenge plan.

"Look, like this," he smirked, giving a demonstration with the wrong stance – as Mason had clearly predicted would happen.

Lyra nodded slowly and thoughtfully, watching him. She stepped closer, pretending to really consider the situation before smiling up at him and tucking her hair behind her ears. "Show me again? Thanks, Edgar, I really appreciate it," she gushed, widening her dark eyes and letting them shine. "I know we didn't get off to a great start, but this means a lot."

Edgar looked surprised but subtly pleased, the stroke of his ego overriding any dislike of her, and he stepped closer to the punching bag, readying himself. "Okay, are you watching?"

"Yes, I'm watching," she nodded, moving to stand next to him and smiling brilliantly again.

Edgar rolled his shoulders smugly and prepared to make the punch.

Lyra saw Mason standing a few feet away, shot a grin at him and then kicked Edgar swiftly in the back of the shin, making his legs buckle and he hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, his knees hitting the training mat with a satisfying thump – the mats would stop any serious damage but weren't thick enough to prevent his knees bruising. Both Dorcas and Mason were bent double with laughter as Lyra stepped backwards and dusted her hands off mockingly.

"That'll teach you to stop listening to the instructor half way through," Lyra smirked as Davey came and helped Edgar up, the blonde boy now scowling up at her.

"What the fuck, Black?!"

She shrugged casually. "I paid attention."

"You just wait until we're fighting each other, and then we'll see how great you think you are," he snapped, his high cheekbones burning red with embarrassment from both the fall and the fact that he'd been taken in by a fake apology and a flutter of her eyelashes.

"No threatening the other recruits please," Mason grinned lazily, "Not very nice, Bones."

Edgar snarled slightly and stormed off to find a different area to practise in.

"Congratulations, that was really quite impressive."

"Thank you, Auror McKinnon," Lyra smirked.

"Was that you… flirting with Bones?" Dorcas said slyly, waggling her eyebrows as she tried to contain a grin.

"Maybe…"

"Dangerous tactic, now we all know what to look out for," Mason smirked, "I'll be on my guard against that look," he said before mimicking her and batting his eyelashes teasingly.

Lyra laughed loudly, fluttering her eyelashes back at him. "I think it suits me much better," she retorted, shaking her head and returning to practising, tuning out from the conversation to focus on getting her punches right.

Dorcas eyed Mason and stayed next to him rather than returning to practise with her friend. "I saw the look on your face."

"What look?" Mason replied amiably.

"You know what look, and you know what I mean, you love a person who can kick ass."

"_Stop_ trying to set me up with people!"

"Mason you are a catch and you know it, so you should let me set you up with people because I have great taste."

"You do not – I'm her instructor!"

"And you'd make an insanely attractive couple," Dorcas protested, making sure she kept her voice low.

"No, Doe."

"Mason!"

"Not happening. Not only because it's not allowed, but because she said earlier she didn't want to encourage the rumour that she slept with someone to get let in early."

"So you did ask her out!" Dorcas crowed, eyes widening with delight.

"_No!_ I offered to help her train and she declined," Mason huffed, exasperated. "Can we drop this now?"

"Only because I'm still so thrilled to see Edgar on the floor," she sniggered quietly.

"We'll speak later – and not about this, before you get any ideas."

"Alright, alright, bye for now," she grinned, dancing back off to help Lyra, winking at Mason over her shoulder.

* * *

Mason and Dorcas slipped into the back of the already crowded room although they were by no means late. The usual suspects were all there: the Longbottoms with Neville absent, Emmeline, the Prewett twins and, of course, the Marauders and Lily with baby Harry in her arms.

"Mason, Doe, over here!" James called, beckoning them over as they made space around the table for the two of them. "How has it been!"

"Grim, although we had some fun today at Edgar's expense," Doe grinned.

"Doesn't Dumbledore still want to recruit him?" Sirius frowned, pushing his hair back and letting Dorcas perch on the edge of his seat.

"Yeah, sure, but he's a twat," Mason snorted, shrugging. "He's a bully. Although people are catching on and not letting him get away with it."

"Well it's not like bullies can't change," James pointed out, giving his three friends a look. "Not that that means he should get a free pass," he added, "There's different levels to it. I just remember he was really good at school and old Dumbles said we should get as many people on board as we could."

Lily made a little noise, making James laugh, and she reached under the table to bring out an old tin of chocolates, now repurposed. "I forgot I made cookies! I saved you some although they're probably the worst ones, the others were greedy shits and just grabbed."

"Lily, none of them will be shit, I guarantee it," Dorcas grinned, grabbing one gratefully. "God, this is so much better than the porridge in the canteen."

"Everything is better than that porridge, Doe," Mason sniggered.

"Eh, true. Wait, Dumbledore is here!"

The room quickly quietened down as the professor walked to the middle and surveyed the group gathered around him.

"Good evening, all of you. Thank you once again for attending. I know the danger each and every one of you face just getting here, and that risk doesn't go unnoticed," he began calmly. "The news I have for you this evening isn't pleasant. I'm sure you will all see the news in the morning but there was an attack just a few hours ago on the Muggle village where our friend Caradoc resides. The Order members who were here at headquarters rushed to aid him and the Ministry sent Aurors once the alarm was raised, but there were nine Muggle deaths and…" The usually composed man faltered. "Caradoc is… missing. No trace of him at all."

Mason glanced across at his friends and they all shared the same expression: it was one thing to volunteer to fight in the war, it was another thing entirely to be reminded that they could quite easily die doing it.

"We know Bellatrix Lestrange was present, as were Antonin Dolohov and Robert Avery."

Dorcas squeezed Sirius' hand tightly, knowing that any mention of his extended family upset him even if he wouldn't admit to it.

"And we will continue to believe that he is alive and a prisoner rather than the alternative. Negativity will help no one."

Mason privately thought that was useless advice. Sure, being a pessimist wouldn't help but being ridiculously optimistic would only lead to false hope. Caradoc was dead, or as good as dead, and while they should try and find him, they should remain realistic about their chances.

* * *

The rest of the meeting was subdued. Most people didn't have any new information or were still working on their assigned tasks, so most people left once the briefing was done. The Marauders, Lily, Dorcas and Mason remained behind, promising they'd lock the doors and set the wards up when they left the little house.

"I'm going to kill her myself," Sirius snapped once the room was empty of anyone else.

James sighed, knowing full well that this was about his cousin. "You can't just kill her, Sirius, she should be tried and sent to Azkaban."

"Azkaban is too good for her, she should be dead! Nine more Muggles!"

Mason wrapped his hands around his mug of coffee and stole another cookie from the tin in the middle. "She should be dead but you don't have the authority to kill Death Eaters. If you'd wanted to go down the Auror route, you might've had that chance."

Sirius shook his head in disgust, not listening to Mason's advice. "It's bullshit. She's following You-Know-Who, Narcissa married that Malfoy dickhead, Regulus is still at home and probably one of them too, Lyra's there too – you know her fiancé was there tonight as well?"

"Fiancé?" Dorcas spluttered. "When did _that_ happen?"

"Well she didn't exactly tell me, she doesn't speak to me, does she," he said bitterly, "But it's obvious. Avery was all over her in school and I have no doubt Mummy and Daddy will have cashed in on that. Good connections and a lovely full Gringotts vault," he drawled.

"She's only just graduated," Mason frowned, but he glanced sideways at Dorcas – they both knew exactly where Lyra was and it wasn't at Grimmauld Place planning a wedding.

"Yeah, but she's eighteen and eligible," Sirius said, mimicking his mother's accent. "They won't care, and she'll go along with it. She'll be married before the year's out, I bet you ten galleons. It'll be in the Prophet the next day."

Dorcas bit her lip. "You never know, maybe if you wrote to her you could find out? She might just feel stuck."

"If she'd felt stuck she could've left with me," Sirius snapped, pushing his chair out and exiting the room swiftly. They all knew it wouldn't have been that simple, but they left the comment unchallenged and let him leave. It wasn't worth the effort to force him to stay – he'd return when he was ready.

"Merlin, someone's missing Marlene," Lily muttered."Missing Marlene?" Mason said, raising an eyebrow swiftly and leaning in.

Lily giggled. "Calm yourself. Nothing's happened, Marlene is just at work this evening and they've not seen each other for a bit. We've been trying to get Sirius to ask her out properly but you know how he is."

"I do," Mason scowled, "He's lucky I don't beat him to a pulp for messing her around."

"And we all know that he is not the one in charge of their relationship status, she's the one keeping him at arm's length these days. If he hurt her, Marlene would beat him to a pulp before you could so much as blink," James countered with a grin.

Mason grumbled under his breath.

"More importantly," Dorcas said, giving the Auror a stern look, "We need some advice."

"We do?" he checked.

"We do," she said firmly, turning back to the others. "We know what's happening with Lyra. She's doing Auror training with me."

Remus, who had so far been quiet, choked on his cookie and leaned forwards, eyes wide while the others all had a similar reaction.

"We weren't sure whether to say anything to you – or more importantly to Sirius – but we don't want him thinking his entire family are out there doing all of this. He should have the chance to resolve things with her at least, right?"

"I guess," James said slowly, trying to weigh up the pros and cons of this plan. "Is she genuinely on our side?"

Mason rolled his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I just mean that I've met his parents, they're not exactly the easiest people to get away from, is she there for the right reasons?"

Dorcas nodded to Mason. "Just tell them, we can talk to Sirius afterwards and explain."

"She was engaged to Avery I assume," he started slowly, "She knew if she stayed at home, she'd be in too deep to ever leave, so she sent in her application a year early and explained the situation to Moody. He agreed to take her on if it meant keeping her out of that house and in a job, a job she actually wants, too."

"And from what she's told me it isn't just a pity place either. She's weak as shit, her mother was making her diet like mad all summer, but she's so good!" Dorcas added eagerly.

"Well we'll see about that," Mason grinned, "But yes, Lyra is safe and well and not married to a Death Eater."

"Much to Mason's pleasure," Dorcas smirked and winked at Lily who gasped happily.

"Dorcas, for fuck's sake," he grumbled as Lily flapped her hands.

"You _fancy_ her?" she beamed, "Ohhh I like the sound of this!"

"I do not, this is Dorcas letting her imagination run away with her."

"Sure it is," Lily said sweetly, leaning over and patting his head.

Mason brushed her off affectionately and scraped his chair back. "Leave me alone. I'm going to find Sirius and pass this all on to him so he can stop worrying about it."

"Any chance Regulus has also had a change of heart?" James said dryly, bouncing his son on his knee.

Mason thought back to the Ministry document on Moody's desk letting them know that Regulus had been sighted with other prominent Death Eaters. James took his grim facial expression to be all the answer he needed.

* * *

"Sirius are you there?"

Mason slipped through from the main room at the front to the office at the back where most of the Order's intel was collected and filed. Normally they had a couple of people organising it all and working out what missions would be best and which Death Eaters to target but after the meeting earlier it was empty save for Sirius.

"Don't want to talk, Mase," he muttered, tipping his head back and resting it against the wall, his eyes closed. "I'm not in the mood for a lecture about Marlene."

"I'm not here to talk to you about my sister, I'm here about yours."

Sirius' eyes flew open and he sat up straighter. "What?"

"It's good news, promise. She left home," he said gently, sitting in the chair opposite him. "She's doing the Auror training with Dorcas. I'm her instructor."

"What?!"

"I promise you, this isn't a joke, I'm not being a dick, she left before they could marry her off and she's going to be an Auror."

Sirius shook his head. "I don't understand. You mean my parents put her into Auror training?"

"Well judging by the fact that she's had no letters from home, was forced into a diet all summer by your mother and deliberately put herself forward for training early to avoid getting married, I'd say no," Mason smiled. "She wanted out."

Swallowing hard, Sirius glanced down at the floor and tried to piece it all together in his head. "She really left?" he whispered.

"Yeah, she really did. And I think if you wrote to her, she'd love to hear from you."

"I don't know about that, Mason, we've not spoken in five years, not since I left home…"

"All the more reason to speak now, surely? Write to her, mate, say that I mentioned her but obviously miss out the whole 'we're in the Order' bit," Mason chuckled, standing back up and getting ready to leave. He and Dorcas didn't have much time to sneak out and they'd stayed chatting for long enough already.

Sirius snorted, but he nodded gratefully. "Thank you. Makes me feel slightly less ashamed of my last name knowing it's not just me about to get disowned."

"Any time," Mason grinned, "She's doing you proud, I promise."


	3. September 1980

Lyra stared at the blackboard by the training room and then stared at Dorcas. She stared at the board some more, and then back at Dorcas. “There’s no way I’m going to pass or, more importantly, survive. No way at all.”

The practise fights had all been written up the previous evening and on their way into the room that morning they’d stopped to see. Despite his almost friendly behaviour towards her more recently, Lyra strongly suspected that McKinnon had done this on purpose. He was clearly sadistic.

“You don’t know that, you’re pretty good now!”

“I’m fighting _Edgar_. He won’t care about the rules, he’s going to try and hurt me!” Lyra said, a hint of distress creeping into her usually calm appearance.

“Yeah and do you really think Mason will let him?” Dorcas retaliated, tugging her friend away from the board and into the room. “He’ll know what he’s doing.”

“If you mean me, I always know what I’m doing,” Mason said as they entered, leaning against one of the pillars, arms folded across his chest.

Lyra scowled at him and marched over, her arms folded too, mimicking his stance. “He’s going to kill me!”

“No he won’t, not unless you let him,” Mason said, clearly unconcerned.

Her scowl deepened and Mason was forcibly reminded of Sirius, which made him laugh.

“It’s hardly a case of ‘letting him’. But fine, I’ll kick his ass and afterwards I’ll kick yours,” she snapped, turning and storming off to get changed and warmed up.

“Now that I’d love to see,” Mason smirked across at Dorcas who was trying to contain her laughter.

“I bet you’re all riled up now,” she grinned, waggling her eyebrows.

“Why do you insist on doing this?”

“Because I think you’d make a great couple!” she pouted.

Mason rolled his eyes. “This is getting old, Doe. I’m her instructor, it wouldn’t be appropriate, and on top of that – I do not like her like that.”

“Psssh, sure,” she laughed before skipping off after Lyra, “Dorcas is always right!”

* * *

“Okay everyone, keep it focussed and quiet please, fourth fight of today – remembering that these don’t count for anything and they’re just for practise – is Lyra and Edgar. Are you both ready?”  


Lyra glanced across at Dorcas, who put both thumbs up and grinned, and then nodded to Mason, making her way into the marked area in the middle. She’d been paying close attention to the other fights and while she was still furious that she’d been partnered with someone who obviously was going to take this personally, she hoped that Edgar would realise his grudge against her wasn’t worth getting into trouble for.  


Taking a deep breath, she rolled her shoulders and eyed Edgar up, trying to calm her jitters: he was bigger and stronger than her but he relied on that and was much slower for it; she was sure he’d make this as embarrassing as possible, but the most important thing, she told herself sternly as she blocked out the jittery thoughts invading her head, was that he wasn’t Robert. And that this time, she knew how to fight back.  


“Ready,” Edgar smiled, and Lyra nodded again.  


“Me too.”  


"In which case… go.”  


It felt far too contrived – it was all a setup and she knew it, which only stilted her movements. Lyra didn’t want to move first while there was no chance at a surprise attack or getting the upper hand quickly, but she also knew she couldn’t wait for Edgar to move and hand him the advantage either. Hating that she knew this about herself, she cursed that she fought best in self-defence.  


“Come on, sweetheart, you’re hardly going to hurt me, what’s all the waiting for?” Edgar smirked, causing a ripple of laughter from the other gathered recruits.  


“Likewise,” she said coolly, darting forwards and ducking under his swinging fist to kick at his knees like she’d done the other day.  


Someone whooped from the back as she made contact and he stumbled, but he regained his balance too quickly and threw her down onto the mat, her breath leaving her lungs so fast that it hurt. Lyra tried to roll over and push herself up but felt Edgar’s boots connect violently with her ribs and she cried out, jerking backwards.  


“Get up, little Death Eater, and fight me properly,” Edgar snapped, backing off as she hauled herself up and dropped back into the correct stance, wincing at the pain in her side.  


“I’m _not_ a Death Eater,” she snarled, gritting her teeth and ducking again, landing a hard punch to his gut and then driving her knee up into his groin.  


Mason choked back a laugh from the side, but it was suffocated by a gasp as Edgar grabbed the end of her ponytail and dragged her back into the middle of the circle, her feet kicking ineffectively as she tried to pull away.  


“Not yet you aren’t, but we know how your family turn out,” he hissed into her ear. “Rotten to the core.”  


“Bones, watch it,” Mason warned sharply, seeing tears in Lyra’s eyes as her neck strained, her head bent back at a painful angle.  


Edgar glanced over at him with contempt but let her go and she got carefully to her feet again.  


Determined not to let this end without giving it her all, she noticed that Edgar was still recovering from the kick she’d inflicted before and she darted around behind him before he could turn, grabbing him around the neck and using all of her body weight to yank backwards, cutting off his air supply.  


He struggled for a second, face turning red, but her size played against her again and he swung her around easily, prised her fingers off his throat and held both her hands in just one tight fist. She glanced up at him and yanked away from him desperately, trying to push on his chest with her feet for any extra purchase. Grinning, Edgar raised his spare hand and slapped her hard across the cheek, her head jerking to the side with the force of the blow. The sound seemed to echo and Lyra’s brain melted with panic as she struggled to get away from him, pupils blown wide with fear as her chest heaved.  


Dorcas looked across at Mason with wide eyes and shook her head, trying to get him to end the fight. “Mason, end it! Edgar – let her go!”  


Edgar didn’t let go. He stared Lyra in the eye, his grip tightening painfully around her wrists and lifting his hand again.  


“Bones,” Mason snarled, stepping forwards immediately: it wasn’t only Dorcas who had picked up on something more than adrenaline in Lyra’s body language.  


Edgar’s hand seemed to Lyra to move in slow motion: she felt his muscles tense as he moved his arm back and she desperately reached out with her mind with everything she had left.  


The gym bag slammed into the side of his head before he could move his hand any closer and he dropped her to the floor throwing his arms up to protect himself. She scrambled backwards frantically and rammed straight into Mason who had lunged forwards to intervene.  


“What the fuck?” someone said as Lyra stood up shakily, clinging to his arms.  


She turned back around to see Edgar shoving the bag off and staring at her in abstract horror.  


“Was that wandless magic?”  


“It had to be, we don’t have our wands on us.”  


“Is he hurt?”  


“Is _she_ hurt? That was insane.”  


Mason’s expression was one of cold fury. “Bones. Kindly explain what the fuck just happened.”  


Dorcas pushed her way over to Lyra and tugged her backwards gently, rubbing her arms to stop her shivering.  


“What do you mean? She just threw this at me! She could’ve killed me!”  


“It’s a gym bag, Bones, not a boulder,” Mason sneered. “I meant before that. When you’d clearly won the fight, were told to stop twice and then continued to _terrorise_ her for no good reason.”  


Edgar opened his mouth and then closed it again, realising there was nothing he could say.  


“We’re done here. Bones, walk yourself to Auror Moody’s office. I’d like you to explain the events of today and the other week to him. Tell him I sent you and that you’re to see him right away. Apologise for the interruption and let him know I’ll be along shortly.”  


He didn’t dare do anything else but nod and leave silently, the door clicking shut behind him with a sense of finality.  


“We’re finished for today, we’ll catch up on the rest tomorrow. The rest of the day is yours,” Mason called and everyone hastily dispersed, relieved to be well away from the situation.  


Dorcas had found Lyra her jumper and sat her down on one of the benches against the wall. Going over to them, Mason crouched down in front of her, opened the gym bag and quickly transfigured one of the towels into an ice pack, gingerly holding it against her already bruising cheek.  


“I’m sorry,” she whispered.  


“For what? Stopping him from hurting you?” Mason said, his lips curling in anger. “You did nothing wrong.”  


“Not for that, for freaking out – causing a scene,” she mumbled, and Dorcas squeezed her hand comfortingly.  


“You were way calmer than I would’ve been in that situation,” Dorcas promised, “He fully deserved it.”  


“What will happen to him?” Lyra asked, watching Mason from under her eyelashes as she adjusted the ice pack.  


Mason raised an eyebrow. “Technically Moody has the final say, but I’m going to push very strongly for him to be kicked out if Moody doesn’t do it by the time I get there. Being an Auror is a position of responsibility and you shouldn’t be one if you get off on hurting people.”  


“I shouldn’t have thrown the bag,” Lyra protested.  


“No, technically you shouldn’t have, but the fact that you did was… awesome,” he chuckled, “You won’t get in trouble for that. He very much started it. I know it might not have been entirely intentional but wandless magic is a very useful thing to master if you’re good enough. And I have a feeling you are.”  


She smiled weakly at him and shifted on her seat, tucking away the compliment and letting it bolster her shaky confidence.  


“I’m going to go to the office too and make sure the little prick is telling Moody the truth,” he smiled back, “You’re free to go, but I suggest going to get your ribs checked over just in case. A cracked rib is more common than you think and a little bitch to heal if you don’t catch it right away.”  


“Yes boss,” she joked quietly, getting up when he did and bumping into him, sitting back down heavily with a little laugh. “Sorry, poor timing. I promise I’m not trying to fight you too.”  


“Lyra,” Mason said gently, helping her to her feet and pausing. “You know I wouldn’t have put you against him if I’d known he’d be like that, right? I feel awful.”  


She nodded. “I know. Just means I need to work a little harder, right?”  


“That’s the spirit,” he chuckled, watching her guiltily and noticing the way her eyelashes brushed her eyebrows as she looked up at him, her eyes dancing slightly as she watched him back.  


Dorcas cleared her throat loudly and Mason looked away, taking a deep breath in.  


“Yes, I’m going. I’ll come and check on you later, okay? I feel guilty as all fuck”  


Lyra laughed slightly and nodded. “See you later.”  


Mason grinned again and backed away, pointedly ignoring Dorcas’ burning gaze as he slipped out of the room.

* * *

“Okay, nothing is broken or out of place, you’re just going to have some bruising and stiffness for the next couple of days,” the Healer promised, handing over a potion that Lyra quickly swallowed. “If anything feels really badly wrong, just come back and let me know.”  


“I will, thank you,” Lyra smiled, hopping off the narrow Hospital Wing bed and zipping her jacket back up.  


“And tell your Instructor to go easy on you for at least tomorrow, or he’ll have me to answer to!”  


“Noted,” Mason grinned, leaning against the doorway beside them.  


Lyra turned and stared at him, blinking. “What are you doing here?”  


“I wondered if you were still here, and since we’re finished in Moody’s office, I figured I’d swing by,” he explained, holding the door for her.  


Lyra thanked the Healer again as they left, and she tucked her hands away in the ends of her sleeves. “What’s happening to him?”  


He glanced down at her and stopped walking for a second. “He’s in his room packing his bags.”  


“Are you joking?” she breathed.  


“Not in the slightest. Moody agreed with me – someone who can behave like that shouldn’t be left in charge of protecting vulnerable people.”  


Lyra started walking again, so he followed, giving her the chance to speak first.  


“Thank you,” she said after a moment of silence, “Part of me wondered whether I hadn’t done something to warrant it, or whether maybe I should let him do it. My family have hurt people, Bellatrix was responsible for the death of his friend’s family and probably other people he knew too. Channelling the anger somewhere is better than bottling it up.”  


“But taking it out on you is absolutely not okay,” Mason said firmly. “It’s a selfish thing to do and we both know it was more than that – he was enjoying it.”  


Mason had expected Lyra to turn right and head up the stairs to the dorms but she just nodded distractedly at his comment and then continued down the corridor.  


“Where are you going?” he snorted.  


“Training room,” she shrugged.  


“Are you serious?”  


She turned back and the corner of her lip quirked upwards. “No.”  


“Not funny, he makes those jokes more than enough. But you can’t actually be serious about training now!”  


“I just don’t want something like that to happen again,” she protested, “Practise makes perfect, right?”  


“Practise after you’ve been hurt makes you more hurt,” he corrected, hurrying after her.  


She laughed, “That is not a saying.”  


“No, but it’s true. If you’re going to practise, at least let me help? I know, I know,” he said, cutting her off before she could open her mouth fully, “But it won’t look dodgy. Not after today! It’ll just look like some extra training, which anyone is welcome to!”  


She took a deep breath. “Okay then.” She could do with the guidance: clearly brute strength wasn’t going to be her thing, so she needed help figuring out what was.  


Mason grinned and then jogged ahead to hold the door open for her. “You know you’re going to regret this, right?”  


“I already do,” she quipped, shrugging her jacket back off and draping it over a chair.  


He kept grinning as he rolled his shoulders. “We’ll start with a little fight, a mock one don’t worry, and I’ll correct you as we go.”  


“Sure, wouldn’t want to get the shit kicked out of me twice in one day,” she snorted.  


His grin faltered slightly and he ran his eyes over her. “Are you okay to do this?”  


“Merlin, yes! I wouldn’t agree to it if I didn’t feel okay, McKinnon, I promise. I’m weak, not dumb.”  


He rolled his eyes but nodded, raising his fists. “In which case, go for it.”  


Lyra grinned wickedly and started to circle him, the pain in her body fading away as her focus narrowed in.  


Poking her head into the room at the sound of voices, having been looking for her friend after the nurse told her she’d been discharged, Dorcas stopped and stared. Seeing Lyra laughing as she lunged towards Mason, she smiled privately and leaned against the wall, folding her arms. Maybe she was just obsessed with matchmaking or maybe she just knew these things but whatever it was, she knew she was right about the pair of them. She also knew how this would go – Mason would continue denying it and say he couldn’t date a fellow Auror, Lyra would insist that she didn’t have time for romance – and she knew she was going to be very frustrated before she saw a happy resolution to this. She shook her head in amusement as Mason tripped backwards, and slipped away, leaving them to it.

* * *

> _Dear Mr and Mrs Black,_
> 
> _I am writing to inform you of your daughter’s whereabouts. I’m sure you have been very concerned for her and her safety, as I know that Lyra hasn’t been in contact with you. As a dear friend, I was concerned that her estrangement from you would upset her more, so I decided to write to you as soon as I could. I don’t mean to betray her trust, but if I were you, I’d want to know too.  
Lyra is safe and well here with me. I can’t say exactly where that is, because the location is secret, but we’re both at Auror training under Auror Moody and it’s going really well!  
I’m sure Lyra would love to hear from you!_
> 
> _Yours sincerely,  
Emma Vanity_
> 
> _PS Please let Regulus know that I’d love to have a catch up once I’m finished. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him!_

* * *

_September 30th 1980_

Emma had honestly expected more of a response from Lyra or her parents following the owl she had sent the previous week. It was now the last day of September, October lurking around the corner, and yet she’d heard nothing. No howler at breakfast, no crying mid sit up. Disappointing. Training had been dull since Edgar left, and they all knew that Lyra had caused that, so Emma had thought it was only fair to cause some trouble for her too – karma, she supposed the Muggles would say.  


As she dropped her towel and toiletries back off in the dorm that morning, she noticed Dorcas hunched over Lyra’s bed, rubbing her back.  


“Is she ill?” she asked imperiously, tying off her freshly washed and plaited hair and smoothing it down with a satisfied smile.  


“None of your business, Vanity,” Dorcas said with uncharacteristic sharpness. She shifted to sit on the floor by the mattress, and Emma caught a glimpse of Lyra’s red-rimmed eyes before they were hidden again by the duvet.  


She feigned confusion and slipped over, furrowing her brow. “Oh no! Well, whatever it is, I hope you’re feeling better soon,” she smiled, the sympathy in her expression not quite reaching her tone. “I’d better get to breakfast, do you want me to tell Auror McKinnon that you’ll be late?”  


Lyra mumbled a protest quickly as Dorcas spoke over her, “Yes, Emma, that’d be really helpful. We’ll be along as soon as we can.”  


“No problem,” she said sweetly, before practically skipping out of the room, hiding her glee.  


Dorcas scowled after her and then clambered onto the narrow bed next to Lyra, wrapping her arms around her properly and tucking her against her despite being much shorter.  


“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry.”  


“They picked today for a reason,” Lyra whispered, squeezing her eyes shut tightly and burying her face further into Dorcas’ shoulder. “They had to know.”  


“They did, I’m sure, and they’re cunts,” Dorcas promised, stroking Lyra’s hair softly and kissing the top of her head. “But this isn’t the end. You knew it would end like this eventually, right? When you didn’t go back and didn’t get married?”  


“I know,” she wailed, “But not like this.”  


“No, not like this,” Dorcas agreed gently.  


Being disowned was something Lyra had accepted but only passively, only in the ‘some time in the distant future after training and after trying to change their minds’ not ‘today on her nineteenth birthday in two lines of her mother’s dismissive scrawl’.

> _I had hoped you were more like Regulus than him. Our home, our money, our name aren’t yours. You’re no daughter of mine._

  


No daughter of mine.  


No daughter of mine.  


No daughter of mine.  


When training finished, she had no house to go back to. No money except for the small amount she was would get as an interning Auror. No family.  


She’d never been like Sirius. He’d known what he believed in and known it was different to his family and he’d gone out and forged his own path; he’d had the friends and the courage to do that. Regulus loved and was loved by their parents and had never questioned their world view, inheriting both their convictions and the title of heir to the Black family after Sirius left.  


Lyra had the curse of being the youngest. She’d grown up seeing Sirius’ fall from grace and Regulus’ servant-like obedience and knew she couldn’t live either of those lives. Her friends were Slytherin, Pure-blood and all in the Sacred Twenty Eight, she had nowhere to run and hide if she decided to leave, but she was terrified at the thought of marrying into the same circles as her family and spending the rest of her life as a housewife and mother, raising children who would end up just like her, never escaping.  


The only time Sirius had spoken to her after he ran away was that September when he arrived at school with James Potter in tow looking smug as hell. He’d asked why she didn’t leave too, ignoring the fact that she was thirteen and scared and alone. He’d not understood why she’d never even dared to think of a life where she didn’t get married after leaving school. He’d shouted at her for being confused, for not knowing what she believed, who she wanted to fight for.  


Even now, at nineteen, she felt far too young to be alone.  


“Do you want to head to breakfast?” Dorcas asked quietly, “Or do you want to stay here for a bit longer?”  


Lyra shrugged helplessly and closed her eyes again.  


“I don’t know what I want.”  


Dorcas sighed. “Alright, sweetie. I’m gonna leave you here and go and damage control whatever bullshit Emma is doing as we speak. You know where I’ll be if you need me, yeah?”  


“Yeah. Thanks, Doe.”  


Dorcas reached under her bed and pulled out a little wrapped box. “Happy birthday, Ly,” she smiled softly, leaving it on the pillow next to her.  


Once Dorcas had left the room, letting the silence settle around her, Lyra allowed herself five more minutes of crying before she dragged herself up, wiped her eyes and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She pulled on an extra jumper, shoved some trainers on and grabbed the box. It didn’t take long to unwrap – they weren’t allowed to leave the compound so it was just covered in paper that Dorcas had drawn flowers on – and she pulled out a little notebook, opening it curiously. 

_  
_

> _Reasons to Be Happy (add your own!!)  
_
> 
> _1\. You’re so old now whoop whoop!  
2\. Once we’re done with training we’re gonna get drunk and you’ll love it  
3\. I exist which is GREAT  
4\. You beat me at the 5k run which is fucking impressive  
5\. Birthdays mean cake and we’re gonna get cake later SOMEHOW  
6\. You’re super pretty and I love your hair and eyes  
7\. You beat up edgar bones (twat)  
8\. I’ve seen mason topless and he’s SHREDDED  
9\. Mason’s abs deserve two points I cannot tell you how much you’re going to love seeing him naked (don’t hate me)  
10\. Life is good!!!  
_
> 
> _Happy birthday angel this is a shitty present but seeing as we’re PRISONERS here this is all you’re going to get :( Hope you’re glad you picked me to be friends with because you’re stuck with me for life now. Mwah mwah, love Doe xoxo_

_   
_

Lyra laughed out loud. Trust Dorcas to make something so hideously Dorcas to give to her. Despite that, she loved it. It meant more to her than any gift she’d been given before because there was no way to miss the thought and care that had gone into it, references to McKinnon’s naked body aside – Lyra knew that was only in there because her friend wanted to set them up and if love could be created by sheer force of will, they’d be married already.  


She set the notebook down and sniffed, rubbing her eyes and forcing herself to stand up. The letter from her parents had fallen onto the floor, so she picked it up and screwed it up angrily, dropping it into the bin in the corner and setting it on fire with a dismissive flick of her wrist. Her heart was breaking, but she couldn’t let it ruin what was happening now. 

She needed to bandage up the cracks and get through the day, the next week, the next month, and deal with it later.  


It took her more than hour to wash, taking her time under the boiling hot water and scrubbing her skin clean, and to dress in something suitable but comfortable. She did her makeup as usual, making extra sure to cover the redness still around her eyes but she left her hair down, hoping just for today to not be the centre of some drama and hoping the curtain of hair would help. Her stomach growled but seeing as it was nearly lunch time by this point, she ignored it easily and slipped out of the dorms and headed down to the classroom.  


Their physical training had stopped, although there were still regular outdoor sessions and they’d been encouraged to maintain a high level of fitness, and they were now onto the theory side of the job: the law, the limitations of their power as Aurors, techniques for arrests, day to day business and, her favourite part, duelling.  


Mostly this meant days of lectures from Auror Moody, McKinnon or a few other Aurors who were involved in the training of the recruits and Lyra was beginning to feel like NEWTs were a walk in the park compared to this. Even so, she loved it and she felt far more comfortable with a set of notes and a quiz deadline, even if a quiz on the rules on magical games in Muggle-populated areas wasn’t particularly thrilling.  


More pressingly, it meant she needed to get into the lecture theatre, find the seat she knew Dorcas would’ve saved her and try not to get shouted at for being late.  


Bracing herself, she inched the door open, wincing as she slipped into the room.

* * *

She looked devastated and his heart rate doubled instantly, faltering slightly as he watched her shut the door behind her.  


“Uh, sorry I’m late,” she mumbled, her eyes flashing up to where Dorcas was sat at the back.  


Dorcas shook her head slightly at him, so he just looked back to Lyra hovering awkwardly by the door and sighed.  


“Just take a seat, get the notes quickly.”  


She bobbed her head and then darted towards the empty seat.  


He cleared his throat and glanced back at his notes before addressing the room again. “As I was saying…”  


She blushed red and chewed on her lip as she sat down, Dorcas sliding her notebook across quietly, grateful he hadn’t made a scene.  


It was an easy lecture and so he finished quickly, giving them the rest of the time to catch up and get some extra reading done. Mason sipped his coffee, now cold, and tried to make sure he was looking only at the desk or the room in general, resisting the urge to stare at her shamelessly.  


He’d helped her train a few more times but he couldn’t use that excuse now the physical side of things was finished and she’d passed well and so the last week they’d not spoken outside of the lectures. Mason hated the fact that he knew exactly how long it had been since they’d spoken and he hated that he was so worried about her entrance today. Emma Vanity and been and let him know that ‘poor Lyra’ was ill and wouldn’t be making the lecture today, and how awful was it to be ill on your birthday of all days, but Dorcas had rolled her eyes behind her so he’d zoned out and then dismissed Emma to her seat once she stopped rambling.  


She did look ill, he couldn’t lie. Her face was pale underneath the makeup and she seemed shaky and he needed to know what was causing it if it wasn’t illness. He realised with a jolt that he’d never seen her hair down either; it fell well past her shoulders and down her back in dark waves and she was forever tucking it behind her ears or wrapping it round her fingers as she read, her lips moving slightly as she followed the words on the paper.  


He only realised that he’d spaced out when he heard everyone leaving for lunch, someone stepping in front of him and blocking his view of the room. Startled, he blinked and leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath and looking up.  


“Hi.”  


“H-hi,” he said, taking another gulp of coffee as he realised Lyra was standing in front of him. Shit, had she noticed?  


“I just wanted to apologise for coming in late,” she admitted. “I had an, uh, interesting morning.”  


It wasn’t about the staring, thank fuck. “Oh, yeah, Vanity said you were ill,” he said, trying not to sound too curious.  


“Oh, well, I guess she thought I was. I mean, I was, I guess, but I’m okay now,” she said with a thin smile.  


Mason remained unconvinced both that she’d been ill and that she was fine now. “Are you sure?” he checked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not saying you look like death but… you look like death.”  


She snorted slightly. “Merlin, thanks.”  


“You didn’t answer my question.”  


She swallowed. “Fine. I’m not sure, no. I got an owl from my parents.”  


“Oh,” he said after a beat, not sure if she’d want him to say anything. He’d heard enough from Sirius to know what her parents were like and he could tell she’d been trying to prove something ever since she arrived.  


“I knew it was coming, they never approved of me wanting to be an Auror, and I technically got engaged in June so we all knew I was out of time, but I just never expected them to actually do it, you know,” she whispered, running her fingers along the edge of the desk.  


“Lyra…”  


“They disowned me,” she said, hearing her voice crack and knowing her attempt to patch up the hurt for later was over. “It’s over.”  


He hadn’t even noticed that he’d moved, but he found himself in front of her, his hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Lyra.”  


“Don’t be,” she said, trying to make her voice sound firm. “It’s a good thing. I can forget about it now, stop all dreams of going back once this is finished.”  


“Even so, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled, realising she was trembling like a leaf.  


She laughed. “I don’t either. I’m about thirty seconds from falling apart because I know I shouldn’t be upset, they weren’t good people and they would never have let me do what I wanted to do, I would’ve been miserable. Robert would’ve made an awful husband and I would’ve spent the rest of my life married to a man that you were hunting down. But it _hurts_. They are – were, I don’t know – my family, and I lost them.”  


“Robert Avery?” Mason checked, eyes widening slightly. It really wasn’t relevant to any of this, but he had to ask. Sirius had mentioned it at a previous meeting, but he hadn’t quite believed it. “You were engaged to Robert Avery?”  


She shuddered slightly but nodded. “I was but the ring is at home and, well, I’m not. I’ve no doubt that now they know where I am it’s all been called off. I doubt they’ll speak my name out loud anymore.”  


“It’s that bad?”  


“To them, I no longer exist,” she croaked, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. “Sirius didn’t, after he left. There was no trace of him. He’s no longer their son, and I’m not their daughter.” The dam broke and the tears fell again as she swiped at them angrily.  


Mason wrapped his arms around her instinctively, tucking her head under his chin. He knew this definitely broke some rules but he didn’t care – she was crying and his mum always said a hug was a good place to start. Lyra hesitated for a moment, but it felt so nice being held that she gripped him back, allowing herself to feel safe and okay even if it was just for a minute.  


“It sucks, and I want to go and beat the crap out of them all but I know it wouldn’t help,” he said gently. “I know Dorcas will be looking after you, but if you ever need someone else to talk to, I’m here. I’ve been friends with Sirius a long time, I know it was shit and I can always just sit and listen.”  


She wiped her eyes again on the sleeves of the oversized jumper and pulled away again reluctantly, managing a smile up at him. “Thanks, Mason.”  


“You called me Mason and not McKinnon,” he noted with a grin.  


Lyra couldn’t help but laugh and glanced up at him, smiling ruefully. “Dorcas wore me down. And it would’ve felt weird saying your last name then.”  


“Well I prefer it, makes me feel less old and formal,” he chuckled.  


“You’re not old! Not that I actually know how old you are but you can’t be old.”  


Mason sniggered. “Why thank you. I’m twenty two, actually.”  


“Only twenty two?” she blinked, surprised even though she wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to say.  


“Well, twenty three in January, but yeah. Why?”  


Her cheeks tinged pink, she shook her head quickly. “I don’t know, I just hadn’t thought about it. I know you were friends with Sirius but I forgot that you were accelerated through the Auror programme.”  


He quirked an eyebrow up. “How do you know that?”  


“You seriously have to ask? Dorcas told me.”  


Ah, that made sense. Probably followed by something horrifically embarrassing.  


“Typical, should’ve guessed,” he muttered.  


“She talks about you a lot. Like… a lot.”  


Mason rolled his eyes. “Ignore all and anything she says about me, it’ll be nonsense.”  


Lyra’s traitorous mind wandered back to the notebook under her pillow (you’re going to love seeing him naked) and she flushed an even deeper red.  


“Do I want to know?” Mason groaned and she shook her head firmly. “I guess I’ll pretend this never happened?”  


“Probably wise,” Lyra agreed, clearing her throat and smiling. “But I ought to go and get some lunch. Thank you, you know, for the hug and the chat and stuff.”  


Mason ran a hand through his hair and smiled. “No problem, any time. I wouldn’t want you to be upset like that.”  


“I’ll get there,” she promised, fiddling with the ends of her sleeves as she backed towards the door. “See you around?”  


“Yeah,” he grinned, trying not to seem too pleased with himself. “See you around.”

* * *

The rest of his afternoon was free from teaching because there was an Order mission and he was needed. Dorcas had lectures and couldn’t think of a good enough reason to be coincidentally missing so she was having to stay behind. Mason expected that her anger at missing out was lessened by the fact that Lyra would need her today.  


He grabbed his stuff and escaped to his room to apparate to the headquarters to prepare and was instantly hit with the chaos and nervousness that seemed to be 24/7 within the Order these days.  


“Mason, you made it,” Marlene beamed, getting up from the table and pulling him into a tight hug.  


He laughed and spun her around easily, kissing her forehead before he set her down. “Hey, Mar, I missed you!”  


“I missed you too, but you know how Healer training goes, it’s just so intense. Some might even say more intense than Auror training,” she sighed wistfully and he rolled his eyes.  


“It’s a good thing Doe isn’t here or you’d get a punch for that.”  


“Give her my love,” Marlene instructed, “But come on, get a move on, we leave soon.”  


Mason snorted and watched her weave through the room over to the Marauders. She obviously informed them that he was there because they looked up and Sirius broke away to head over to him, pushing through the other people dashing around.  


“McKinnon,” he said with a quick smile. “Before this shit show gets going, I need to ask you something.”  


Mason looked at him quizzically. “What is it? If this is you about to ask permission to date Marlene the answer is no.”  


“It’s not that, funnily enough,” he said dryly. “I need you to give a letter to Lyra.”  


“A letter?”  


“Yeah,” Sirius shrugged. “When you get back tonight, if you can. Before midnight.”  


“I can’t exactly guarantee that I’ll be back before midnight, we’re attacking a potential Death Eater base, in case you hadn’t heard,” he said sarcastically.  


Sirius just scowled. “Don’t be a prick. It’s her birthday, okay. And if I’m going to try and make things work or whatever then it might as well start today.”  


“It’s her birthday?” Mason choked. Shit, Vanity had said something about it and he’d just not registered it at all.  


Sirius narrowed his eyes at Mason suspiciously. “Why would you care?”  


“I don’t _care_, Sirius, I just…” he winced, “She was disowned. Today”  


It was Sirius’ turn to choke and his grey eyes widened in shock, jaw dropping. “What?”  


“She was disowned. Your parents found out where she was and what she was doing and she got the owl today. I just didn’t know it was her birthday, they… they disowned her on her birthday,” he whispered, the sadness of it finally hitting him.  


“Fucking hell,” Sirius mumbled, pausing for a moment before he yanked the envelope out of the inside pocket of his leather jacket. “In which case she definitely needs this.”  


Mason took it carefully and tucked it into his bag on the table. “I’ll make sure she gets it, mate.”  


Sirius smiled gratefully, his eyes drifting back across the room when he heard a familiar laugh. Mason followed his gaze and sighed, his expression softening as he realised Sirius was watching Marlene.  


“You know I was joking about the dating thing? I know I should hate the idea of it, but you need to tell her, Sirius,” he said quietly, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’re all living on borrowed time, don’t waste it.”  


Sirius’ jaw clenched slightly, but he nodded and smiled, ducking away to finish preparing.  


Mason watched him go and then glanced back pensively at the letter sticking out of his bag. The war was only getting worse, and as much as they tried to deny it, people were dying and friends were going missing. There wasn’t time to waste denying feelings when the realisation that any day could be their last was starting to sink in.

* * *

“I know you sent the letter to her parents.”  


Emma looked up from her notes and sighed, adjusting her ponytail as she watched Dorcas slam the door shut and stalk over to her.  


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  


“You think you’re so sneaky but you’re a poor excuse for a Slytherin. You couldn’t be more obvious than if you’d shit yourself and ‘vanished’ the evidence,” Dorcas laughed. 

“Denying it doesn’t mean we can’t tell it was you.”  


Emma turned her nose up slightly and ignored her, but this only frustrated Dorcas more and she stood in front of the desk and slammed her hands down on the book in front of the blonde girl.  


“You’ve ruined her life, I hope you’re happy. If this is some sick revenge for Edgar – oh yeah, I saw the way the two of you were, we all did – you’re going to sorely regret it,” she snarled.  


Emma put her pen down and folded her arms across her chest. “She ruined Ed’s life with that little stunt. If she didn’t want to get hurt then she should’ve worked harder in training.”  


“Oh go fuck yourself,” Dorcas laughed. “Lyra probably wouldn’t do anything to you if I told her the truth because she is a nice person unlike _some_ people I could name, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you for this.”  


“Oh dear Merlin, Gryffindors are so dramatic,” Emma yawned.  


Dorcas just grinned wider. “You think this is dramatic? Sweetheart, I’m just getting warmed up. Don’t fuck with her or me again or you’ll find out what I’m really like when I’m dramatic.”  


“Duly noted, Meadowes,” she sneered, picking up her quill again and looking down at the book pointedly, brushing Dorcas’ hands off it dismissively.  


Dorcas just glowered at her before storming back out of the dormitory, leaving Emma laughing silently.

* * *

The raid had gone as well as could be expected: no one was badly hurt, a few Death Eaters had been identified for definite and Mason himself only had a few bruises and a nasty jinx burn on his leg where he hadn’t been able to completely dodge the spell. Most importantly to him though was that he was back plenty before midnight.  


Dorcas had been waiting in his room to hear the news and when he’d rushed through the night’s events and asked where he could find Lyra, she’d practically beamed.  


“She’s in the library, she wanted to be alone for a bit so she’s just doing work. Why do you want to know?” she smirked, kicking her legs as she perched on the edge of his table.  


Mason gave her a look and pulled out the thick envelope with Sirius’ handwriting scrawled across the front. “He gave me this to pass along. He wanted it to get to her on her birthday.”  


Dorcas was slightly disappointed it wasn’t actually something romantic but she knew the letter would mean a lot to Lyra so she nodded. “Then you’d better hurry up. You’ve got twenty minutes.”  


Mason smiled gratefully and ruffled her hair as he went past just to annoy her. “Thanks Doe. Marlene sends her love too.”  


Dorcas grinned, “Appreciated but get a move on!”  


He laughed slightly as he headed out, making his way down to the library on the ground floor. It was dark apart from one lamp in the corner so Mason padded over, finding himself strangely nervous. After the last few weeks and the events of earlier in the day he was finding it harder and harder to act professionally around her and being alone in the library this late felt weirdly intimate.  


“Lyra,” he said quietly, hovering at the edge of the lamp light and almost regretting disturbing her she looked so peaceful.  


She dropped her quill as she jumped and her head snapped up, hair shifting over her shoulder as she turned to look at him, dark eyes wide.  


“It’s just me, sorry,” he chuckled slipping over and sitting down opposite her. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”  


“It’s okay,” she smiled tiredly, “I just didn’t hear you approach. Can I help you?”  


“Ah, no, this is just a quick visit. I’ve got a letter for you.”  


Her brows furrowed slightly and the colour faded from her cheeks. “I’ve not had a great day for letters, honestly.”  


“This is a good one, I promise,” he smiled, handing it over and watching her carefully.  


She recognised the handwriting immediately – of course she did – and her face remained pale as she took it from him tentatively. Mason held his breath as her fingers brushed his and he remembered after a beat too long to draw his hand back to his side of the table. She didn’t seem to notice though, she was running her hands over the ink on the front.  


“Lyra?”  


“Hmm?” she said absentmindedly, putting the letter down like it had burned her hands.  


“He wanted you to have it today, on your birthday.”  


She hated how much she blushed around him but she found herself doing it again. “Oh.”  


“I know today’s not exactly been great, it feels hollow wishing you a happy birthday, but I hope the letter makes up for it a little bit,” he smiled.  


“Thank you,” she smiled back, her eyes sparkling slightly in the glow of the lamp. She noticed the bags under his eyes and the shallow cut on his cheek and she bit her lip to avoid commenting out of concern. The yellow light was making him look both much older and much younger than twenty two and she had a feeling there was something going on that was much bigger than she could comprehend. After all, he’d somehow seen Sirius tonight and had returned with cuts and scrapes and she didn’t quite know what to make of it. Despite all of that, he’d bothered to come and find her to deliver the letter before the end of the day, and the knowledge made her chest tighten in a funny way.  


“You should get some rest, you look shattered,” she said, tilting her head to the side.  


“Rude,” Mason grinned, “But true.” He reluctantly stood and stretched, glancing at the letter again. “I’ll leave and let you read it alone, I feel like it’s not meant for anyone else to see.”  


“Thank you, and thank you for bringing it to me,” Lyra said, her eyes following him as she tucked herself up on the chair and picked up the letter again. She kind of wished he wouldn’t go, but would never ask him to stay.  


“You’re welcome. I hope it makes today slightly less shitty.”  


“I think today is a lost cause, but there’s this cool thing about days, at midnight you get a new one,” she grinned.  


Mason laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Wow, that’s so deep, a really wise person must’ve said that.”  


“Wise and devastatingly beautiful,” Lyra smirked.  


He couldn’t find a reply to that that wasn’t far too honest so he just smirked back and nodded quickly. “Night.”  


“Sleep well,” she called after him, watching him in the dark until he vanished down the corridor.


	4. October 1980

Lyra whirled underneath the flash of red light and threw a retaliating jinx behind her easily, hearing the yelp of pain as confirmation that it had hit. Without really seeing - but feeling - where the other person was, she spun and cast another spell, the light bright enough to force the onlookers to close their eyes as the boy stumbled backwards and tripped, his wand clattering to the floor. She quickly yanked it away with a muttered ‘expelliarmus’ and then pointed her wand directly at his chest, breathing heavily.

“And Lyra gets the win,” Mason said approvingly, writing it up on the blackboard.

The boy struggled to his feet by himself but shook her hand with a begrudging smile before he stepped back to make room for the next duel.

She allowed the thrill of the duel and the win to wash over her as she rejoined Dorcas and sipped her water, smiling to herself as Dorcas ruffled her hair proudly. Lyra had known from the beginning that whatever she lacked in hand to hand she more than made up for in magical combat. Even before she got her wand aged eleven she’d felt magic more keenly than either of her brothers had, and she’d worked hard on duelling ever since.

Feeling Mason’s eyes on her, she looked up and grinned at him and he grinned back before turning to start the next duel.

“You looked so _hot_ then,” Dorcas whispered, her own fight over earlier. “Like when you were fighting? I was nearly attracted to you.”

“Nearly?” Lyra pouted.

“You’re not my type, I prefer blondes,” Dorcas cackled, “But it was a close one, I promise. You know who else-“

“Don’t say it!”

“Was attracted to you?” Dorcas finished triumphantly. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see him staring.”

“I wasn’t focussing on him, okay?” Lyra snorted, “I was focussed on the duelling.”

Dorcas rolled her eyes and shut up to watch the last few fights.

“Auror McKinnon,” someone called once the final duel had been decided.

Mason turned from the blackboard. “Yeah?”

“Who do you think would win if you and Black duelled?”

Most of the eyes in the room turned to Lyra and she choked slightly on her water.

“Want to find out?” Mason smiled at her.

“Oh I’m sure it’d be you,” she said hastily.

“You know what, I don’t actually know,” he grinned back mischievously. “Come on, give it a go. If you lose, you know you lost to a fully trained Auror and there’s no shame. If you win…”

Someone whooped from the back.

Lyra cast her eyes upwards desperately and then shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.” She stood up again and grabbed her wand from the bench next to her. “Let’s do this.”

Mason’s grin turned wicked as he twirled his wand in his hand. “Let’s.”

Dorcas grabbed the whistle from around his neck gleefully and stood at the edge of the marked off area. “You two ready?”

Lyra nodded and closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself, feeling the warmth of her wand and the magic pulsing within. “Ready.”

Mason narrowed his eyes and rolled on the balls of his feet. “Me too.”

Dorcas blew the whistle.

Mason wasted no time and immediately lunged forwards into his first spell. Lyra didn’t bother to try and dodge it, she just flung up a pearly shield charm that absorbed it easily before throwing a stunning charm underneath the bottom edge, catching his foot and making him stumble. It hadn’t been a direct hit, he wasn’t unconscious, but he felt an unnatural heaviness in the foot and suddenly found it a dead weight.

“First hit to Lyra!” Dorcas called.

Mason cursed and Lyra laughed, delighted.

With his foot now largely useless, Mason was forced to move less when attacking and the attacks soon turned defensive as Lyra practically danced around whatever spells he shot her way. One nasty hex left her arm burning deep inside but she gritted her teeth and stepped closer, surrounding him with stormy whorls of water, blocking his view. Mason had the strength and power advantage, sure, and he definitely had the experience. When he managed to hit her, it _hurt_ and her teeth were permanently gritted now. But his style of duelling, fighting against her at least, was too different. The magic seemed to anticipate what she wanted and there was an artistry to her movements that he hadn’t seen in a dueller before which allowed her to outmanoeuvre him fairly consistently.

The spectators were now hastily stepping back to give the pair more space as the spells grew wilder. They did seem evenly matched, only conceding a wound when their different styles let something through the wall of magic being thrown out. By now most, if not all, of the charms were non-verbal and Dorcas had stopped trying to keep track of what spells they were even using.

Somehow Lyra had backed Mason against the wall of the room but she was no closer to disarming or stunning him than she had been at the start and Mason’s shield charm was far too strong and now covered him from every angle. She could feel the physical and magical drain of the duel and knew she needed to finish it quickly.

She stopped firing spells, knowing that he would have to drop the shield to attack her, and gave herself thirty seconds to rack her brains.

The room was silent. No one moved. Mason watched her from behind his shield charm and she watched his hand movements. The stalemate stretched on, blood pounding in her ears as she locked her gaze on him and took a steadying breath, trying to read his blue eyes for any hint of what he was planning. He smirked slightly and dropped the shield as he moved faster than she’d thought it was possible for someone to move. Despite studying him, she was caught off guard and her wand was yanked from her hand before she could so much as think of protecting it. Desperate and knowing she wasn’t done yet, she yelled, startling him, and threw her hand out towards him.

“Ventus exanimo,” she cried, turning her hand and clenching her fist, watching with satisfaction as gusts of wind whipped around his head and shoulders fiercely. She lunged forwards and snatched both wands from his hand while he struggled for breath and then, once she’d retreated a safe distance, she ended the spell and watched him drop to his knees, rubbing his neck and staring at her, his eyes bright despite the redness of his face.

Dorcas waited a second before she opened her mouth, seeing if Mason had anything left. He just stared at Lyra for a second longer and then grinned, shrugging. “You win.”

Her jaw dropped slightly as she handed his wand back.

The room exploded with noise as people crashed into her to congratulate her, not even remotely remembering that an hour before they didn’t care about her one way or the other; Mason McKinnon was a well known guy and a talented Auror and he’d been beaten by a recruit. Dorcas practically chucked the whistle back at Mason and dived on top of Lyra, hollering loudly and setting her off laughing too, but Lyra’s eyes were still fixed on Mason.

He’d stood upright and stayed back while the other recruits had gathered around but he was watching her with obvious pride and something else that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She wanted to make sure he was okay – no one else had noticed that her final spell hadn’t been in the Standard Book of Spells, but she knew it was an invented spell, one that she hadn’t ever used on another person before. As she kept watching him, she found she couldn’t look away. Maybe it was the feeling of validation from knowing she was good at this and that she could be accepted as an Auror, but a large part of her happiness right now was – if she allowed herself to admit it – because _he_ thought she was good at this and _he_ was proud of her. Not understanding exactly why she was feeling that way, she blushed as she always seemed to around him and finally forced herself to look away and chat excitedly to the people around her as they streamed out of the training room to go for dinner.

The room emptied until Mason was left holding his wand at his side, his hair very tangled. He felt like he’d been hit by both the literal hurricane she'd conjured but also a metaphorical one. She had been formidable. He’d seen her application back at the beginning, he knew that she was a good dueller, could perform controlled wandless magic and had attempted to create her own spells, but knowing those facts just didn’t match up to the force with which she’d just fought. Mason had thought he’d understood her pretty well despite the short time they’d known each other. He’d had her down as quiet, thoughtful, reserved but witty. Not that.

She’d come out and obliterated him – even if it had taken her final spell to disarm him, he’d been on the defensive the entire time and even now he couldn’t feel his leg from the first hex.

It was completely inappropriate to even think it, but he was starting to resign himself to his feelings. He’d heard Dorcas’ comment after her first fight and she hadn’t lied, it had been hot. Admitting it felt weird but it was true: he was attracted to her, and the look in her eyes as she’d cast that final spell – her own spell – had flipped his stomach so badly he’d barely been able to breathe even once she’d ended the magic. Something about her, an intangible quality that he couldn’t put his finger on, was magnetic. He found himself staring at her, moving towards her without thinking about it and his mind had rebounded to the image of her in the library surrounded by the halo of lamp light frequently and persistently.

Mason growled in frustration and emptied the bottle of water over his head to try and cool down, rubbing his face hard and shaking the droplets off angrily. He hated when Dorcas was right.

* * *

Lyra had got the message at dinner and finished her food hastily, not wanting to keep Auror Moody waiting. She promised Dorcas she’d find her in the rec room later and had made her way nervously down the corridors to the Head Auror’s office. Moody wasn’t always at the compound – he spent most of his time at the Ministry – but when there were problems with the training he used the office there to be closer to it all. He’d explained all of this in their initial brief that first day, and so Lyra knew that the fact he was here meant there was an issue. And she’d been called to the office, which meant that she was the issue.

She felt like a current was running through her, the ends of her fingers tingling and her breathing ragged. Ever since she’d got the fateful letter from her parents she’d lived in even more fear of being kicked out. If she didn’t make it as an Auror, she’d leave the institute and be completely alone with no profession to speak of and no money to fall back on. She didn’t believe in any Muggle gods, her parents had never even spoken of gods, they only believed in their own superiority and nobility as a family, but she found herself praying like she’d heard Dorcas do under her breath before fights just in case there was someone listening.

She knocked and entered, holding her breath.

Moody looked up from the Daily Prophet and grunted approvingly. “Come in and sit down, girl. And don’t look so terrified, you’re not in trouble per se.”

Per se didn’t sound too good.

Lyra sat delicately on the edge of the seat and made sure not to cross her legs or fidget or slouch, retreating into her old habits to ground herself.

Moody gave her a glance over. “You’re looking healthier than you did when I saw you in June.”

She managed a smile. “Turns out eating enough and exercising is good for you, who knew.”

The older man laughed loudly and straightened up in his seat, dropping the newspaper. “I meant it when I said you weren’t in trouble. You could’ve been, but seeing as it’s me in charge and I like you, it’s alright.”

“What… what for?” she asked.

Moody raised an eyebrow. “I’m not saying I’m annoyed that you beat McKinnon, he deserves to be taken down a peg or two, but using an unregistered spell against an Auror is.. dodgy, to say the least.”

She swallowed. “I – I hadn’t even thought of it like that, I was just trying to win. He wasn’t hurt, was he?”

“He wasn’t, and in fact the only reason I know about this spell was because he came to me ranting and raving about how good it was and how I was right to accept you early.”

“Oh,” she said, eyes widening as a smile crept across her features.

“I’ve just brought you in to remind you to maybe not do this all the time, and if you’d like to get your spells registered in order to use them – bloody well speak to one of us first,” he said firmly.

She nodded hastily. “Yes, Sir, it won’t happen again.”

“Again? You have more spells?” Moody chuckled.

“Well, a couple. But not tested as much,” she admitted, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

Moody hadn’t been joking when he said she looked healthier: when she’d appeared in his office at the Ministry in June clutching her credentials and begging him to take her this year, she’d looked half dead. She’d been dressed exquisitely, a ring on her finger and not a hair out of place but her cheekbones had stood out sharply and her eyes had been flat, not bright and dancing like they were now. Moody never really got on with the recruits and normally found them unbearable for the first year or two, but he’d taken a liking to her, as he had with McKinnon a few years before, and his gut instinct was never wrong. There was something about her, something he admired and was very glad that spark hadn’t died before she’d got out.

He smiled at her and nodded. “Well as long as you don’t go around attacking all my Aurors, I’ll make sure we can get some of these creations out into the world.”

“Seriously?” she breathed, grinning now. “You mean it?”

“They’re good, Black, and having something unique up our sleeves will be very advantageous,” Moody chuckled. “Now get out of my office.”

“Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir!”

“And tell McKinnon from me that I wish I’d been there to see him lose.”

She laughed as she closed the door, leaving Moody sat smugly in his chair as he glanced back at his newspaper.

* * *

Mason hissed in pain as Dorcas sponged down the cut on his upper arm and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t be a baby,” Dorcas muttered, wetting the sponge again and continuing to clean the wound. “It’s just water.”

“Water with Dettol in, Dorcas!” Mason cursed.

“Well you shouldn’t have got injured then, should you?” she retorted, gesturing with her other hand to her bandage free self.

“It was either me or James, and I wasn’t letting that happen,” he protested.

Dorcas stayed silent until she’d finished cleaning the wound and wrapped the thick bandage around it to hold it together. They’d normally do this with magic, but neither of them were good enough to work around the residue magic in the wounds and then heal them, and they couldn’t go to St. Mungo’s or the nurse at the training camp because both would involve way too many questions. She sat back on her chair and watched Mason lower himself on to his bed gingerly.

“You know you don’t have to jump in front of every curse coming their way, Mason?” she asked, her voice lower now.

They’d been in the Order together for nearly two years, he’d been doing it even longer and she knew him better than most – he was a Gryffindor through and through but in him it manifested itself into jumping into dangerous situations to avoid letting his friends do it.

“They have a son, Dorcas, I’d rather it was me than them,” he snapped back, rolling his shoulder carefully to test the limits of the injury.

“There’s being heroic and then there’s being stupid, and you walk that line constantly,” she huffed, “You’re exhausted. You take every mission Dumbledore gives you and you come back and fall into bed. You snap at everyone all day and grumble to me all night. You’re still managing to teach because you’re a stubborn git but it’s cracking, Mason, you can’t do this forever.”

“I’ll do it until we’ve won the war,” he muttered.

She tilted her head to the side. “And how long is that going to be? You’ll give a hundred and ten percent until we win or until you die and we both know it.”

“Then I’ll d-“

“Don’t even fucking say it, you _arsehole_,” she snapped, throwing the sponge at him hard. “Why are you so determined to give everything for this?”

“Because if we don’t, He wins.”

“And if you die, we lose even if we win,” she breathed, wiping her eyes angrily. “If you die on some stupid mission because you’re exhausted and reckless and don’t want anyone else to do the things you’re volunteering for, then we lose you and then we lose. Your mum? Marlene? Me? Countless other friends! We don’t want you dead, you twat!”

“Dorcas, do you not think you’re escalating this a bit?” he sighed. “Me stopping James – who has a wife and child – being hurt is not the same as what you’re saying.”

“I know that, Mase, but I’m saying I want you to be careful. Your life is just as precious as theirs,” she whispered, packing up their first aid supplies.

“I’m always careful!”

Dorcas scowled. “You’re not,” she snapped, “Which is precisely why you’re hurt and I’m not. I’m just saying, keep yourself alive, dickhead, because I’d miss you.”

“I’d miss you too, Dorky,” he smiled tiredly. “Now I am going to sleep before you tuck me in like a baby.”

“Good boy,” she sighed, blowing him a reluctantly affectionate kiss. “See you in the morning.”

Mason mumbled something in response as he got ready for bed, and Dorcas clicked the door shut with a long sigh.

* * *

_Dear Sirius,_

_  
Thank you for the letter. It still feels weird that you sent it, I know how much you hated writing them as a kid, but it only meant that I appreciated it more. I’m not entirely sure what triggered it, but I’m not complaining._

_Mason mentioned that you found out I was in Auror training. I don’t know if you know I was disowned too. Probably should’ve seen that one coming._

_I never told them where I went, I just left and hoped I could explain it all away when I got back but somehow they found out and, well, you know the rest. Did it hurt as much for you? I know you never loved them the way I did, loving them is not something I’m proud of, but how did you cope?_

_Training is going really well, I’ve made a friend, Dorcas Meadowes (did you know her? Gryffindor, year between us, very curly hair) and I’m hoping that once I graduate and move on to phase two I’ll be able to support myself and then it won’t matter so much. We’ll see, I guess._

_I hope it’s all going well for you too, let me know what you’re up to and if anything ever came of you and that blonde girl! I was watching!_

_Once I’m allowed back into the real world we’ll have to meet up, go for a coffee or something? I’ve missed you._

_Love, Lyra x_

* * *

“Alright everyone shut up,” Mason called, rolling his eyes and finishing his second coffee of the morning. His arm still hurt despite the potion and he’d got next to no sleep, the last thing he wanted to deal with was people talking over him. “I’m sure you’ve all seen what today is about on the training schedule. It’s on there because as Aurors, you often have to make visits to the lovely prison of Azkaban.”

The word silenced the last of the muttering.

“And as we all know, in Azkaban there are Dementors. Not fun. So while the Dementors work with the Ministry and should not attack you, their presence is still highly uncomfortable and a Patronus is your best defence from them.”

He dropped the coffee cup into the bin and stood up. “Who can summon one? Corporeal or incorporeal, I don’t care.”

Just over half the room raised his hands, which was a pretty good fraction. Patronuses were harder to cast than most people realised and even in a group of people who had joined because they were good with magic, this was impressive.

“Good! Okay not as shit as I was expecting,” he said with a grin. “Now put your hands down if it’s incorporeal – you don’t have a distinct animal form.”

Half the hands went down, but he was still impressed. Lyra’s hand had stayed up for a second and then went down and he shot her a questioning look.

“Okay the group of you that can produce a corporeal Patronus, grab yourselves a couple of people who can produce a weak one, and split up the lot who can’t produce one yet,” he instructed. “Teaching you lot individually how to cast the spell would take too long, it’s a very personal spell, so getting you to help each other is your best bet. Remember, this is what you’re aiming for.”

He took a second, then said the charm and watched as his sleek black stallion tossed its head and galloped around in the space above their heads. Mason grinned as he watched it move and then let the memory fade, the horse vanishing into thin air.

“Okay, let’s go!” he chuckled.

Dorcas, who could produce a very sweet little squirrel, grabbed Lyra and gathered a few others happily, eager to practise. Mason gave a brief breakdown of the spell and how to cast it and then promised he’d be around the groups to help with any issues that came up before making a beeline for Dorcas’ group. She was very animatedly explaining the process behind casting a Patronus and so Mason sidled up to Lyra who was only half listening and nudged her side.

“What was with the hand going down?” he asked quietly so as not to interrupt Dorcas who was doing a good job at teaching the others. It wasn’t that he was _disappointed_ she couldn’t cast a full charm but seeing as it was an indication of great magical talent, he _was_ surprised.

“It’s complicated, I don’t really… I don’t really understand it. I can cast one, it’s definitely there, I can feel it, but I don’t see an animal.”

“Do you see the silver mist coming from your wand, like with an incorporeal one?”

She shook her head. “I’ll show you. There’s _something_ but it’s nothing like any descriptions I read.”

Mason nodded and took her to one side to let Dorcas continue teaching. “Go ahead.”

Lyra levelled her wand and focussed on her happy memory as strongly as she could, letting the feeling wash through her. “Expecto patronum.”

She felt the magic work, felt the rush of energy, and when she glanced up, she saw nothing as she always did.

Mason on the other hand, took a step back in surprise, his eyes following _something_ around the room. Dorcas looked up too, her eyes wide, and someone on the other side of the room yelped and backed away in fear.

“Get that thing out of here!” Dean said frantically, “It’s bad luck!”

Lyra just followed Mason’s eyes and stared hard, seeing for the first time the silver mist that surrounded normal Patronuses moving around the room seemingly by itself. “What thing?”

Mason laughed and shook his head. “Incredible, I’ve never seen one as a Patronus before. I didn’t even know you could have them as your Patronus, actually. I assume you’ve never seen someone die?”

Lyra turned to him in shock, “Why would you ask that? That’s an awful thing to say!”

“Bear with me,” Mason said and motioned to her wand so she ended the spell and cast an apologetic look over to the boy who still seemed shaken.

“I’m confused,” she admitted, “If there’s an animal there, why can’t I see it?”

“I didn’t think the characteristic would carry over to a Patronus but then again I’d never really thought about it,” he mused, meeting her eye. “Your Patronus is a thestral.”

“A thestral?”

“Yep, which is… well, I’d assume rare, I didn’t even know you could have magical animals as your Patronus.”

“Dumbledore’s is a phoenix, it is possible,” Dorcas added, having paused her explanation to watch the display.

“You could see it too?” Lyra asked her and her friend nodded, her braids bouncing. “I had no idea. I just thought I couldn’t do it properly. Is it still useful if I can’t see it?”

“You felt the magic working, though?” Mason pointed out, “I assume you’d be able to control it just as anyone else would, you just can’t see the animal itself.”

“Okay,” she sighed, “As long as I’m not just messing it up somehow.”

“Thestrals are really sweet, actually, they get a bad rep,” Dorcas smiled. “I was friendly with Hagrid, he’s got that herd of them in the Forbidden Forest and I’d go and feed them when I was stressed. Be proud, they’re a good guardian to have.”

“Is it bad I want to be able to see it?” Lyra asked, “Obviously death is horrible, but I think I’d feel a bit more secure with the charm if I could reliably see what I was sending towards the Dementors.”

“Wanting to know death isn’t bad at all. You know you don’t just have to see someone die to know it?” Mason pointed out gently. “It’s more… an understanding of it. Accepting it and coming to terms with the finality of it works too, and it’s an important thing to do.”

The room had slowly returned to their own practising, letting them talk more privately.

“Have you seen someone die?” she asked quietly.

“I have, but I could see thestrals before that.”

“If you don’t mind me asking… how?”

Mason smiled sadly. “Thestrals pull the carriages at Hogwarts, if you didn’t know, and I could see them from about third year. My little brother, Mark, he’s ten, but he was born with a lot of health issues. For a while after he was born, we didn’t know whether he’d be okay, or if my mum would be either. You learn to face death pretty quickly when you spend most of your time in the critical care ward of Mungo’s. Thirteen year old me struggled a long time with that idea, and I know when I went back for fourth year, there were skeletal horses pulling the carriages where there had once been nothing.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” Lyra said, horrified that she’d asked him about something so personal.

“Oh Merlin no, it’s okay, they were both okay, and if you tried to tell Mark he was poorly now he’d run you over with his wheelchair, but I’d obviously accepted death enough to be able to see them, and my sister can see them too.”

He decided not to add that since then, he’d seen plenty of people die both through the Auror work and the Order work, and with the growing number of innocent casualties, he would be sorely surprised if most of the Order hadn’t either seen or accepted death – he knew that was why Dorcas could see them.

Lyra watched him silently but she nodded and smiled. “Still, thank you for telling me, I know it can’t be easy.”

He chuckled. “Ancient history now. But I had unfortunately better go and help other people. Something in my job description or whatever,” he joked and she laughed, feeling better about her weird charm casting already.

“Alright. Good luck. I’m going to go and apologise to Dean for scaring him half to death,” she grinned.

“Good decision,” he snorted, “See you later.”

Lyra smiled and slipped away to locate the boy who’d been able to see her Patronus, as Mason circled the room to answer questions and trouble-shoot any of the other recruits’ attempts to cast a Patronus.

By the end of the session, most people could cast an incorporeal Patronus, and a few more had advanced from the silver smoke to a full animal and Mason was suitably pleased.

“Okay guys that’s it for today. We’re going to keep practising this for a few more sessions because I want to make sure your charms are solid even if it’s nothing corporeal yet – it’s much easier to cast them now in a safe environment surrounded by friends than it is when you’re surrounded by Dementors reminding you of every horrible memory you’ve had. Make sure to be consciously aware of happy memories and maintain focus. Good work today though, I’m impressed,” he grinned. “You’re free to go.”

Despite the positive message, Lyra shivered at the thought of the Dementors and headed out quietly with Dorcas.

* * *

_11th October 1980_

The sound of the punches echoed dully in the empty training room as Lyra headed in to do some practise. She’d wanted the room to herself and was ready to find somewhere else when she saw the man at the punching bag was Mason and not another recruit.

“Hi,” she called, dumping her bag against the wall and making her way over to him, pulling off her jumper.

He jumped at the sound of her voice, having been very focused on punching the bag to death, and pulled back, wiping his forehead and trying to catch his breath.

Lyra hadn’t realised he’d been training so intensely and did a double take at the sight of him, realising with a jolt that he was topless. Her eyes flickered down automatically – she was only human – but she corrected herself quickly and pointedly didn’t look down again.

Mason barely noticed. He grabbed his water and turned away for a second to try and compose himself before he looked back at her.

“Are – are you okay?” she asked tentatively, moving towards him and reaching her hand out before freezing, realising that not only should she not touch him, it also didn’t seem like a good idea. The agitation was visible in his hunched shoulders and his clenched jaw, so she dropped her hand and waited.

“Sorry, I’m just… not in a good mood,” Mason muttered, straightening up and turning back around slowly.

“Want to talk about it?” she smiled.

He knew that he couldn’t talk about it as much as he wanted to. The mission to track Caradoc down had failed. There was no blood in his house from the attack, there was no trace, no message, no word of him from their sources, and the attempt to break into a Death Eater base and search for him had only found bodies, none of them his. Mason wanted to scream. Dumbledore was still saying that no body was a good sign and that they shouldn’t lose hope, and Mason was quickly growing frustrated. None of this was information he could tell Lyra.

“I’d like to, but I can’t,” he sighed, “It’s… classified stuff.”

“Ah, that sucks. You can always be super vague and if I put anything together I’ll just forget I heard it?” she offered, shrugging.

“That could work,” he laughed and sat down against one of the pillars across the middle of the room. No one would find out either, he trusted her.

She sat cross legged opposite him and smoothed out her leggings absentmindedly. “Go ahead,” she promised, “No judging or trying to work out what you mean.”

Mason snorted and tipped his head back for a moment, sipping his water. “You know when people tell you to keep your chin up and not focus on the negatives except the thing is like… ninety percent negative and it seems ridiculous to pretend it isn’t?”

Lyra nodded. “Yeah, like why deny it? It’s not pessimism it’s realism.”

“Precisely! Like we’re living through shit times and pretending everything is happy and fun isn’t going to help anyone. I feel like I wanna yell so loud sometimes but-“

“But people would say yelling isn’t going to help even if you think letting it all out would actually really help?” she finished dryly.

“And you’re sure you don’t know what I’m on about?” Mason joked, taking a deep breath.

“I think the only solution to this is what I used to do as a kid,” she said seriously.

He raised an eyebrow.

“We need to go to the middle of the field, cast muffliato around us and scream as loud as we can for as long as we need to,” she said calmly.

“Are you joking?” Mason snorted.

“Nope, not even a little bit. It’s super helpful. Sirius was more into punching things, but that’s painful so I’d find a spot behind the hedge in our garden, cast the spell and scream to my heart’s content. Much better,” she laughed. “I’ll even come with you, if you want company?”

“You really wanna do this?” he laughed too, “Didn’t you come here to practise or something?”

“Yeah but we have a more pressing issue on our hands. Come on, get up and get a shirt on or something.”

He remembered that he was topless and went red, “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” she said quickly, and then realised how that sounded. “Not because I’m, like, looking – I just mean it’s not a problem – shoot, now it sounds even worse, I’m just not annoyed, you know?”

Curse Dorcas and that notebook. Now she’d actually seen him and could confirm that he was, as her friend had said, shredded, it was going to be even harder to ignore it.

Mason laughed and nodded, grabbing his top quickly to spare her any more rambling. “I get it, you’re safe.”

She huffed in embarrassment and pulled her own jumper back on because she doubted her sports bra would keep her warm enough outside.

“They predicted rain, you know that, right,” he pointed out, “Are you sure this is going to help?”

“Mason, how do you think I kept it together for eighteen years?” she pointed out.

He just sniggered at that and zipped up his hoodie. “Let’s go then, I can let us out of the building.”

There were dark clouds gathering overhead but the sun was just dipping below the horizon, sending beams of golden light across the field and through the trees bordering it.

Lyra headed out towards the grass happily, breathing in the evening air and relishing in the quiet of the outdoors. “It’s gorgeous out here. I don’t miss London at all. I think the countryside is where I belong, you know?”

“You’d like my family’s house. It’s right at the end of this super long lane, so Muggles don’t bother us at all, and we’ve got a little stream, a pond full of frogs and it all just looks out onto the fields,” Mason described, expression softening at the mention of the McKinnon home. He’d moved out after graduation, of course, but nothing was _home_ quite like that house.

She walked alongside him, trying to keep pace with his longer legs, looking up at him with a smile. “It sounds gorgeous. I miss the Hogwarts grounds and the lake. Grimmauld Place has a garden but it’s tiny and really only there because we aren’t allowed to expand the house out that way, and I wasn’t allowed to just wander round London. Summer was horrible stuck in the house the whole time.”

“What did you do all summer?” Mason said, amazed. He slowed down when he noticed she was trying to keep up, realising just how much shorter she was.

She shrugged. “Stayed in my room if there wasn’t some horrific social event on. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no rebel, I learned all the dances as a kid, I played all the instruments and I do love dinner parties and balls. I got new dresses and had my hair done, that was all good, but this summer was different.”

“Different how?” he frowned.

She looked off into the distance and bit her lip. “I graduated, and although it wasn’t actually announced until late June, I was effectively engaged the day after I left Hogwarts. The whole summer was what _he_ wanted. I was next to him at every event, I had dinner with his family, he’d escort me to everything. I wasn’t even Lyra Black, whoever that was, I was a piece of furniture,” she whispered.

Mason scowled down at the ground. “It’s bullshit.”

“It is,” she agreed, glancing back at him with eyes that looked far older. “I’m not saying I’m a great person, I didn’t leave home for some noble reason like Sirius, I’m not doing this because I railed against everything they believed in and wanted to make a difference. I left home because I knew I couldn’t live like that.”

“I think you’re a great person,” he protested, stopping walking abruptly to brush her shoulder, forcing her to look up at him properly.

She smiled and shook her head. “I’m not a bad person, no, but I sat at their tables and agreed with what they were saying for a long time. I’m unlearning a lot of it now, sure, but I left selfishly.”

“It’s not selfish to not want to be married off to someone like that,” he promised.

She laughed, the sound carrying in the still, humid air. “Oh no, that isn’t selfish, he was a dick, but it is selfish to only make a stand when their beliefs affect me and not when they’ve been affecting Muggleborns my entire life.”

“Well I don’t think it matters,” he said honestly. “You got out, no matter what reason you left for, you did leave and that’s the important thing.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, noticing that the tension in his jaw had melted away.

Mason looked up quickly as a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. “Shit.”

“We’d better get this screaming done quickly then,” she quipped, clearing her throat jokingly.

“You know, I don’t even feel like screaming any more,” Mason admitted.

“I’m glad.”

Another, longer round of thunder made both of them shiver despite the warm air.

“I love storms,” Lyra smiled, “This is a proper one too, which makes it even better.”

“We should find a tree or something,” Mason said, scrunching his nose up as light rain started to fall, dappling his t-shirt with darker grey.

“Right, sure, I want to be under a tree when the lightning starts,” she snorted, “Here is much safer.”

“You’re the one that convinced me to come outside as a storm was forming, you idiot!”

She shrugged. “I didn’t know it was going to happen, but now it’s here I want to enjoy it!”

“Well you’re on your own, I want a hot shower and my bed,” he laughed. He stepped back but she stayed where she was, grinning brilliantly.

“Here it comes!” she called, a flash of lightning ripping through the sky and illuminating the clouds some distance away as the storm broke. The thunder hit ten seconds later.

“The storm isn’t even close, Mason, just stay?”

“You’re crazy!”

She tipped her face up to the sky as the rain started to fall properly, soaking him to the skin almost immediately and he cursed.

“There’s no point going inside now,” she protested, pulling her hair out of its ponytail, knowing it was going to be worse to deal with if it was all wet and tangled up.

Mason continued to mutter under his breath, but walked back over to her, shaking his wet hair. “Fine.”

“Stop being so grumpy,” she laughed, holding her hands out and letting the heavy raindrops crash onto them. “Late summer storms are beautiful, just look around you! It’s incredible! Wet clothes will dry!”

Mason rolled his eyes but there _was_ something crackling in the air and he looked down at her and her massive dark eyes and knew he wasn’t going to walk away. Every time he looked into them he felt like he was drowning. He’d never seen eyes like hers: they were dark, like Sirius’, like the whole family, but hers never looked black – there was always a million lights dancing behind them, like she’d managed to trap fireflies inside, and every time he saw them, properly saw them, they took his breath away. He couldn’t even remember what he’d been upset about.

She smiled at him and then looked away to watch the rain pour down, the lightning continuing to dance above them, and he did the same, feeling a weird sort of peace descend on the field. It was just the two of them, silent apart from the thunder and the noise of the rain, and he felt calmer than he had in a long time.

Once she was satisfied that he was actually watching the storm, she snuck a sideways look at him, a smile still curving the corners of her mouth. From this angle she could see the cut of his jaw and his hair plastered to his forehead. He still had the bandage on his arm and several other bruises, and she let herself sweep the rest of his body with her gaze – it wasn’t her fault the rain had soaked him and the shirt he’d pulled on before was clinging to him so much that he might as well not have worn it at all. She wouldn’t have minded if he hadn’t, honestly.

Despite understanding how he was feeling, she didn’t know what he’d been talking about and she was concerned, more concerned than she probably had any right to be, honestly, and her heart rate quickened when she realised that he probably didn’t think of her as anything more than a recruit who had caused more than her fair share of trouble. Her gaze rested on his lips, as her thoughts had far too often recently, and she sucked in a quiet breath, trying not to disturb him. The anger from earlier seemed to have gone and she was glad she could help, even if it was just with this. Lyra wanted to reach up and brush his hair back and tell him that whatever it was would be okay, but she kept her hands firmly by her sides, her feelings churning inside her.

He eventually felt her eyes on him and turned his head, catching her staring.

She blinked, feeling guilty, and opened and then closed her mouth again, not sure what she’d even say. Mason didn’t speak either, not wanting to break the silence.

Drawn to him and the unreadable expression in his eyes, she stepped forwards until there was barely any space between them and she could feel the heat radiating off him.

She wanted to kiss him. Here, soaking wet with her hair a mess around her face and the jumper hanging damply off her, she had never felt so peaceful, and so in tune with someone else, and she thought he felt it too. She prayed he did, anyway.

The air felt electric. She could barely breathe.

She licked her lips nervously, embarrassed as though he could read her mind, and tucked her wet curls behind her ears, her chin tilting up as the rain ran down his face and dripped onto hers. She closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, wishing more than anything that he’d lean down and kiss her.

The rain seemed to get heavier and an involuntary shiver ran through her at the next roll of thunder and she opened her eyes again to see him just inches away, lips parted slightly. There was a long pause as his eyes ran over her greedily, drinking her in before the look faded like the storm clouds rolling back overhead.

“You’re cold,” he said gently.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she whispered, but the moment was gone and she could see the shift as he became aware again of where they were – and who they were.

“We should head inside,” he smiled, but he wiped a raindrop from the end of her nose softly and stepped back.

Her chest tightened but she nodded and wrapped her arms around herself, reluctantly following him back inside. The need to be close to him had lessened, but he stayed next to her anyway, like he felt it too and didn’t want to let it go just yet. They didn’t speak again as they walked back to the building, the electricity of the storm still sparking around and between them.


	5. October 1980

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I've finally finished editing and rewriting this whole story which means it is fully good to go now! Should be uploading fairly regularly from now on, vv exciting! Check the tags, I've updated them with more specific things/relevant stuff!  
Apart from that, enjoy!!!

“Where have _you_ been?” Dorcas grinned, looking up from her book as the drenched Lyra slipped back into the dorm with a secret smile. “I thought you were going to work out!”

“I was,” Lyra protested, “I just ran into Mason, we… hung out, I guess.”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow slowly and closed the book, laying it down on the table. “No one else is in here, so spill. All the details, Miss.”

“He was in a bad mood, I found him beating the shit out of one of the punching bags,” she explained, stripping down quickly to get into warm and dry pyjamas. “I suggested my old trick of finding somewhere outside and screaming it all out rather than damaging himself more – did you see all his cuts? What is he _doing_?”

Dorcas knew full well what Mason was doing and why he was so angry, but she shook her head and feigned ignorance. “Haven’t got a clue. Maybe he’s just doing Auror stuff too?”

Lyra huffed, “Well he should be more careful, the idiot. Anyway, we went outside to go and scream and let off all his steam except by the time we got out there, he said he didn’t even need to anymore, he was okay. Typical, right? And then the storm hit and – and it was _beautiful_. I wanted to stay outside, so he stayed too.”

“Hence why you’re soaking wet? I heard the rain and was very glad to be warm and safe inside, thank you very much. You’re crazy!”

“That’s what he said,” she snorted, but then her expression grew serious. “Dorcas, you have to promise me you won’t repeat this – or say I told you so.”

Dorcas’ eyes widened with excitement. “I promise.”

“I wanted to kiss him, Doe, and I nearly did. And… I think he wanted to too,” she whispered. “It feels so ridiculous, admitting that I like him, saying it out loud feels even worse than thinking it to myself but I think I’d go mad if I didn’t tell you. I ruined the moment because I’m an idiot but I think if I hadn’t…”

Dorcas let out a very loud, very high-pitched squeal and leapt up to hug Lyra tightly, ignoring the fact that she was still damp. Lyra laughed loudly as Dorcas swung her around and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Oh you adorable little marshmallow! I love you! And I’m so glad you told me!”

“Dorcas, I mean it, you won’t say anything will you?” Lyra begged but she was waved off.

“Of course not! Oh God, I’m so excited! You have no idea! We can make sure you look _incredible_ tomorrow and he won’t be able to resist you for long!”

“I shouldn’t encourage it, Doe, there’s no way it’s allowed! He’s an instructor! It’s like… a student-teacher relationship!” Lyra hissed, shaking her head.

“That’s kinda hot, though? I mean with him, not like a student-teacher thing, that’s a creepy imbalance of power, but it’s not the same here! He’s an instructor, not a teacher! And barely older than you! And anyway, in a few weeks you’re an intern and that’s basically a full Auror, there’s no issues then!”

Lyra gave her a look as she pulled her pyjamas on and towelled off her hair. As much as she loved Dorcas, she wished she wasn’t trying to get her to do something that would only cause them trouble. “None _then_, but there certainly are now. I don’t even know if he likes me like that, it was a weird situation, maybe I read it wrong!”

“Ly, you are one of the most intuitive people I know. You know you didn’t read it wrong!”

Lyra just muttered to herself and draped the towel over the back of her chair, starting to remove the makeup that had somehow survived the rainstorm. She couldn’t get the image of him out of her head, or the knowledge that when she’d opened her eyes he’d been _right there_, close enough to see every individual eyelash and the flecks in his eyes. She wanted to be alone with him again soon, but even though her pulse quickened at the thought, she felt like it would end very badly – for both of them.

“Lyra, come on, you know you didn’t!”

“No, but him wanting to kiss me doesn’t mean he feels the same way about me! You can want to kiss someone but not like them like that, you know you can,” she sighed.

Dorcas just rolled her eyes but realised she would get nothing more from her friend tonight. “Then we’ll just give it some time. I’ve been around him longer, I’ll be able to tell, you’ll see. But whatever happens, you need to look great tomorrow so he can see what he _should’ve_ kissed tonight.”

Lyra snorted and rolled her eyes back at her friend, rubbing in her moisturiser before she slid into bed. “Leave me alone, I’m going to go to bed now and daydream about kissing him.”  
“Oh I bet he’s great.”

“Dream Lyra would find out quicker if you left me alone,” she smirked, closing her eyes.

Dorcas cackled with laughter but picked her book back up, watching her fondly. “Sure, honey. Sweet dreams.”

* * *

_Lyra,_

_Not going to lie, the letter surprised me too. I just figured with you at training it was the best way to talk to you. _

_He told me you’d been disowned and I’m sorry. It’s shit that it has to be this way, but I’m proud of you and I’m sorry I got mad that you didn’t do it earlier. I know it was different for you but I never really understood that. You cope by just living the way you want to and giving it time. It sucked hard for a long time but I found a new family, and that helped a lot._

_I do know Dorcas, actually. She’s a laugh. Never pegged her as your sort of person but I guess I don’t really know what sort of a person you are these days (that’s my attempt at an apology, does it count?)_

_The blonde girl? Do you mean Marlene? That’s a fun topic and by fun I mean super awful and confusing and emotional which I don’t do well. Maybe best discussed in person? Mason mentioned that there’s a family day thing coming up, if you’d want me there maybe I could come and we could get that coffee. I can explain better there, I’m not good with words._

_I missed you too, L._

_Love, S_

* * *

_Sirius,_

_I would love you there. I think you’ve got six years of big brother hugs to catch up on._

_Love, Lyra x_

* * *

Lyra had received another note from Moody but since the last meeting she no longer lived in complete fear of him and read the message with a smile. After the display of her own magic in the duel against Mason, Moody had decided he wanted to test her control of wandless magic too. That was great, that was super news. What wasn’t so great was that Moody had asked Mason to do it, as Moody himself was apparently very busy.

Now she wasn’t stupid, Mason was a talented Auror and would be able to do the assessment just as well as Moody would’ve done, but it meant being in a room alone with Mason, and they hadn’t been alone – or even really spoken – since the night of the storm. She didn’t know if he’d been avoiding her deliberately or if he was just busy but the impending meeting was making her far more nervous than she should be. 

Dorcas had, of course, insisted she looked nice and her nimble fingers had braided Lyra’s curls back off her face and yanked a nicer jumper over her head than the baggy ones Lyra normally owned (aka stole from Dorcas). It had been futile to point out that they were only meeting up to test her magic and not to further their relationship so she’d headed down to the smaller practise room feeling more dressed up than she had in a while and feeling panicked about the impending conversation.

“Hey,” Mason said happily, looking up from the bag of assorted objects as the door opened and he saw her appear.

“Hi,” she smiled back, shutting the door behind her and fiddling with her plaits for something to do with her hands. She was praying that it wasn’t awkward but she wasn’t confident in that with the way his eyes lingered on her as she walked over. Hoping that she hadn’t managed to mess everything up with him and that her feelings weren’t too plain in her expression, she leaned her hands on the table and licked her lips.

“What do we have to do today then?”

Mason took a deep breath and glanced back down at the list of things Moody wanted to test so he didn’t have to look at her for too long. He’d been hoping that she hadn’t clocked on to his feelings for her, but the storm seemed to have ruined all of that and now he was just confused – there had been something in her eyes that night, something that mirrored his own, but that couldn’t be right because there was no way he’d managed to stumble so easily on someone who felt the same as he did. He cleared his throat loudly and smiled, his muscles taut.

“Moody gave me a list, mostly it’s just testing the limits of your control and whether what you can do is defined by spells or whether it’s more natural than that. The wand is a Western European invention, after all, and it might just be that the way you see and experience magic is more ‘Eastern’, so to speak. Most African wizards don’t use a wand at all except for more complex spells.”

“The Uagadou students don’t use wands, right?” Lyra smiled, remembering the fact from a History of Magic lesson.

“Correct, full marks,” he joked, forcibly letting the tension in his shoulders go. “What do you know for definite you can do without your wand?”

Lyra pulled a face, “I’m not sure. I’ve not used it for a while. I know I’m good at moving things.”

“Like a gym bag?” Mason said, the corner of his mouth twitching at the memory of Edgar being laid out by the flying bag.

She laughed quietly. “Like a gym bag, yes. Less of an accio and more just controlling its path, I guess.”

“Okay, we can start with that,” he smiled, ticking off the few things on the list that it lined up with. “If you hand over your wand so there’s no temptation and then we’ll give it a go.”

Lyra pulled out her beech wood wand reluctantly and laid it on the table in front of him. She was pretty attached to it, as she’d had it since she was eleven and first went to Ollivander’s. Her parents had wanted her to change it several times, feeling that she had outgrown it, but no other wand spoke to her and in the end Ollivander had convinced her parents that it would be best to let her keep it.

“Beech wood? Nice,” Mason grinned, “My mum’s really into the wand stuff so I kind of know what all the woods mean and stuff.”

“You do? Isn’t that pretty secretive?” Lyra said, surprised. She’d never really been curious enough to find out, she just knew that she liked hers and that was enough for her.

“Nah you can find some old books on it, and she’d always ask Ollivander questions when we went in to get our wands,” Mason smiled. “Beech wood lends itself well to artistry, it’s for subtle magic, complex charms and such. It suits you.”

“What wood is yours?” she asked, forgetting all about the awkwardness between them and stepping closer.

“Mine? Cypress with unicorn hair,” Mason grinned, “Suited to nobility and heroism. Cypress wand users are apparently very self-sacrificing.”

Lyra scoffed. “That’s so cliché, I hate that it fits you.”

“You think I’m heroic?” he grinned, pleased.

“I think being an Auror for the reasons that you became an Auror for are heroic, yeah,” she smiled, “And I get that self-sacrificing vibe from most Gryffindors, honestly. You’re a house full of martyrs.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, thank you very much,” he said with false indignation.

Lyra snorted so loudly she could almost hear her mother telling her off for being unladylike and Mason tried to ignore the jump in his chest at the sound.

“Come on, we should focus. No more wand lore,” he laughed, getting out a tennis ball and setting it on the table. “Do you reckon you can move this?”

She took a second to compose herself and then nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Try controlling the movement, lifting it straight up and then towards you? Could you do that?”

She shrugged but licked her lips and narrowed her focus onto the yellow ball, holding her hand out and reaching for the magic to direct the ball upwards at a steady speed. At the top it wobbled slightly but then glided out from the table over open air towards her.

Mason watched her carefully, noting the cute little furrow in her brow. “Okay, now throw it against the other wall.”

She let go with relish and hurled it towards the other end, letting the energy drop and her arm fall back to her side.

“Hey, that was super impressive! Normally people can only use it in moments of high emotion and even then, it’s more instinctive than methodical,” he smiled. “I’ve used it in a few duels and a fight at school but that’s about it.”

“I was an introverted kid, honestly,” she admitted, “I spent a lot of time in my room reading and practising this sort of stuff. It was really handy for when my wand got confiscated, I could still light my candles and reach the books on the top shelf.”

Mason smiled at the image of a much younger Lyra struggling to reach cupboards. “Lighting and extinguishing candles is actually also on the list,” he said quickly before he got carried away, grabbing out the thick pillar candle and setting it on the table. He stepped back slightly – just in case – and nodded to her.

She smiled and clicked her fingers at the candle, the wick immediately flaring up and burning merrily. “Very handy for reading well into the night.” Lyra left it flickering for a few more seconds and then clicked her fingers again, the flame vanishing and being replaced with a little spiral of smoke twisting its way towards the ceiling. “I have to admit that’s about all I can do reliably. The rest is, like you said before, only when I’m stressed or in danger.”

“Yeah we kind of suspected that,” Mason smiled, “But even Moody can’t do that sort of stuff, he’s going to be jealous. This isn’t for Moody now, this is just my own curiosity but when we duelled, you cast your own spell wandless. Is that the only one you can do, or can you cast specific spells too?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lyra suddenly felt far too hot, but she really didn’t want to take the jumper off partly because the top underneath had been chosen by Dorcas and was far too revealing but also because she felt far too exposed already, his question having hit a nerve she didn’t know she had. Her hand circled her other wrist where there used to be bruises and she hesitated before opening her mouth.

“I can cast protego.”

Mason’s memory flickered back to the fight with Edgar again, not to recall the way she’d used wandless magic to throw him off, but to remember the fear in her eyes the instant before. He’d forgotten the sheer panic and desperation he’d felt radiating off her until now and realised there had to have been a reason she’d _needed_ the shield charm like that. He felt a wave of anger surge through him and there was a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Who?” he said firmly, and she met his eye nervously, not quite sure what he meant. “Who hurt you?”

Lyra shook her head, unable to answer due to the lump in her throat. This wasn’t a side of her home life that she’d ever spoken to a soul about, not even Dorcas, and while she felt safer with him than anyone, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted anyone to know about this. It felt safer to bury it away and forget it ever happened. It’s not like it had been anything close to what Sirius had experienced, it was never her parents doing it, but that last month before the start of training had been long and there were large chunks of days that were foggy solely because she’d chosen not to remember. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay! It’s never okay!” he said, his voice getting louder. He thought he’d seen enough of that side of Pureblood society to not be surprised by anything anymore, but apparently there was still more he was yet to understand.

“Mason, please,” she said quietly, taking a shaky breath, “It is okay because I’m not there and I won’t be again. And… can we please just drop it? I don’t like thinking about it, it makes me feel… weak.”

He ran his hand through his hair agitatedly but nodded, sucking air through his teeth slowly in an attempt to calm himself down. “Yeah, we can drop it.” Not drop it for now, not drop it until later – he knew from being around Sirius that pushing people to talk about things that they weren’t ready to talk about rarely helped. She’d told him that much, she’d trusted him with this, and he wouldn’t mention it until she did.

“New subject, any top tips about the exams?” Lyra smiled tentatively, offering the conversation change because he honestly looked as agitated as she felt and she didn’t want to keep thinking about any of it.

Mason laughed. “You know all the different exams, right?”

She nodded. “There’s far more than I thought there would be, I’m worried about the practical stuff, the Concealment and Disguise section and Stealth and Tracking. Poisons and Antidotes should be okay, as should Duelling and Arrests. The rest are all so so.”

Mason shook his head. “Honestly, I can’t see how you’d do badly enough to fail. Because there are so many different sections, they aren’t exactly big exams, and there’s always the written exams for every section if you’re worried about the practical side of things. I can’t really say much more without breaking the rules,” he chuckled, “But I’m always around for help and practise if you need it.”

“And that’s not special treatment, right?” she smiled, cocking her head.

He grinned. “Nope, as always I’d give the same speech to anyone who asked but no one else has been smart enough to ask someone who has done all the exams before for help.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, you passed with flying colours?”

Mason smirked, “How did you know?”

Lyra had no doubt that he was being honest. He was clearly confident, but he didn’t strike her as the type of person who was boastful where there wasn’t anything to boast about; false pride was something she couldn’t stand.

There was a momentary lull in conversation and Mason packed the ball and candle back into the box, along with Moody’s instructions and then returned to watching her as she glanced out of the window as the first rays of sunset broke through the tree line across the field. He wondered what she was thinking about, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he’d actually want to know.

“Sirius is going to come to the family day,” she blurted out after a few beats more of silence, biting her lip before continuing. “He wants to see me and didn’t want me to have no one there.”

Mason smiled slightly, his expression softening. “He mentioned it to me, yeah.”

She gave him a funny look – another indication that Mason was going somewhere outside of the training compound when he wasn’t busy with the recruits – but he ignored it.

“It’s going to be really weird to see him. I mean, obviously I’ve seen him around, but not since he graduated, and I’m worried that I won’t know what to say when he’s actually there in front of me. I’m better at letters than I am talking about things in person,” she continued. “What if it’s awkward?”

“It probably will be to start with,” he answered honestly, leaning against the table casually, “There’s a lot to catch up on and it’s hardly the usual ‘long time no see’ situation, is it?”

She sighed. “Not helping, Mason.”

“No, but it’ll be alright! You’ll just have to go for a walk away from prying eyes and get it all off your chests – both of you.”

Lyra pulled a face at the thought of the horrific encounter to come; it wasn’t even that she didn’t want to see Sirius – she was basically counting down the days – but she had a feeling it was going to get worse before it could get better. There was a lot of resentment both sides that she felt would surface once they were in the same room.

Mason saw the face and resisted the urge to take her hand. “No one said it was going to be easy, Lyra, but it’ll be worth it, I promise. He’s a long way from the angry teenager you spoke to last.”

She smiled at him gratefully and nodded, trying to remember that Sirius was nearly twenty two and had had a long time to deal with the stuff he’d been dumped with when he ran away. “True. Despite all of this, I am looking forward to it. Thank you for telling him where I was.”

He shook his head and picked up the box, “No problem, I’m glad I could help in some way. I think both of you deserve it.”

Lyra smiled at him again and grabbed the broomstick that was leaning against the table, looking at him quizzically. “What was this for?”

“Moody had wondered if you’d be able to control something that normally only responds to wizards being on it or saying commands,” Mason shrugged, “But he doubted it, that’s pretty much unheard of. Accio only works on brooms because it’s worked into the magic used to create them in the first place.”

She headed to the door to hold it open for him. “Yeah, not going to lie that sounds fairly impossible.”

“What are you doing?” Mason snorted.

She raised an eyebrow. “Helping you take this stuff back.”

“I was just going to take them back to my room,” he said slowly, realising he couldn’t exactly refuse the help just because he didn’t want her in his room. Correction: he wanted her in his room, he really _really_ wanted her in his room, but it was an awful idea and her being there was only going to aggravate him.

“Okay, so let’s go,” she snorted, nodding towards the corridor. The idea of being in his room – not his office, his _room_ – was torture for her too but she’d offered now and didn’t want to suddenly change her mind in case it tipped him off too much to her feelings.

Mason laughed and carried the box out ahead of her, his mind frantically going over whether she was even _allowed_ in the Auror’s part of the complex. He couldn’t think of a rule that would stop her, especially seeing as she was just dropping off a broomstick for him, so he kept his mouth shut and tried to think of something else, like icy water, History of Magic lessons, what he was having for dinner.

Lyra found herself watching him, which she was realising she did far too much anyway, gaze resting on the way his muscles stood out under his top as he adjusted his grip on the box and, as her eyes wandered down, the cut of his trousers, which were jean material like the Muggle fashion but still looked good on him. She blushed at her own imagination and forced her gaze back to eye level, glad that she was behind him so he hadn’t seen her.

“Here we are,” Mason said, balancing the box in one arm to unlock the door and push it open for her, “Just dump the broom anywhere, honestly. I don’t even know where Moody got it from, there’s none here, so I’ll have to chase him down to give it back anyway.”

She nodded and leaned it in the corner carefully, glancing around the room curiously. It was neat, which surprised her, and there were a few photos on the wall, also surprising her – she’d assumed he went home most nights as there were plenty of other instructors to stay overnight but the set up looked far more lived in than that.

“Are you here a lot?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “I’m technically in charge of this whole operation, being second in command is no walk in the park!”

“You’re second in command?” Lyra choked, “As in, after Moody? For the whole department?”

Mason looked amused. “Yeah, did you not know?”

“Well I think Moody might’ve mentioned it in the introduction in September, but honestly I’d not really registered it.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Well now you know. I’ve got all the power when he’s away.”

“Worrying,” she quipped, pretending to shudder.

Mason laughed and rolled his eyes at her. “Get out of my room, Recruit.”

She really wanted to kiss him again and the feeling was starting to get out of control – how was she supposed to function day to day when all she wanted was for him to push her up against this wall?

“I’m going, I’m going!” she grinned, holding her hands up in surrender. Truthfully, she needed to go because she needed a cold shower.

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he chuckled, shaking his head and letting her shut the door without following her out.

* * *

Lyra returned to her dorm, humming under her breath, to find Dorcas with the latest Daily Prophet up in front of her face.

“Hey, you,” Lyra smiled, tugging the jumper off and hanging it back in Dorcas’ section of the wardrobe. “Funnily enough he didn’t see the nice bra you made me wear.”

No response.

“Doe?” Lyra frowned, heading over and noticing that the newspaper was still held high. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she replied, but there was a quiver in her voice that Lyra had never heard before.

Her frown deepened and she gently tugged the paper out of Dorcas’ hands, folding it up carefully before turning back to her. Dorcas’ eyes were rimmed with red and there were half dried tear tracks running down her face, her braids hanging loosely around her face.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Look at the Prophet,” Dorcas whispered, her dark eyes looking up finally to meet Lyra’s.

Lyra retrieved the paper and glanced at the front page: MUGGLE FAMILIES IN OTTERY ST CATCHPOLE MURDERED IN SLEEP.

“The Death Eaters left a message saying they would continue to purge wizarding villages that had been taken over by Muggles until the ‘pure of blood’ reigned once more,” Dorcas said bitterly, wiping at her eyes furiously. She rarely cried, choosing instead to channel her feelings on the war into anger and rage but today had been too much. Half-bloods were partially at risk, but as the only Muggleborn amongst the recruits this year and still feeling powerless to help people like her despite being in the programme had gotten too much.

Lyra didn’t know what to say. Her whole life had been safe from this kind of hatred – her family had been the ones giving it out and she didn’t want to seem like a dick by opening her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, genuinely meaning it. There was something fundamentally wrong about seeing Dorcas like this.

“It’s bullshit,” she spat, the tears flowing again now as she stood up. “In the Muggle world I get it for my skin colour and in the wizarding world I get it for my blood. Like I could fucking help it! It’s fluke! You could just as easily have been me, and I you, and then what? It’s got nothing to do with who you actually are, it’s superficial!”

“I know,” Lyra mumbled, giving her space to rant.

“No, Lyra, I’m sorry, you don’t,” Dorcas laughed, pausing her pacing to stare at her. “I love you, this wasn’t your fault, but you’re a white Pureblood, don’t try and say you know what this is like. Don’t try and tell me you haven’t been fed this shite your entire life.”

“I left, Dorcas,” Lyra said accusatorially, “I don’t think like that.”

“Oh you all say that,” she snapped, “You all think because you chose this side that it erases what’s happening. One person leaving that life doesn’t cancel out the fact that people think I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t have gone to Hogwarts, shouldn’t have any say in this world just because my parents can’t use magic.”

“Dorcas-“

“Stop, don’t say _anything_, you will never be hunted and killed for who you are. You don’t have to sit in fear that the next family in the paper will be yours. You don’t get it! Look who you grew up with!”

“You sound like Emma Vanity and I’d like you to stop,” Lyra said firmly, grabbing her friend’s hand. “Don’t lump me in with them. I would be the first to say I’m lucky despite the shit I’ve gone through. I’m not at risk, you’re right, Doe, I’d never _ever_ try and say otherwise. And it’s true that I don’t understand and can’t understand. Part of me is still amazed that you’re able to match me in a duel because I was taught that my family and other Purebloods were always more powerful. But you prove to me every day that that’s not right. I’m not my father, my cousin, my brother,” she said, her voice softening, eyes wide. 

Dorcas gave her a long hard look and then nodded slightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take this out on you.”

“Oh no, you’re more than welcome to,” Lyra promised, “I’m sure I’ve done plenty that warrants it, I’m not proud of it all.”

“You’re not perfect, but you’re not bad at all,” Dorcas muttered apologetically. 

“Thanks, I think,” Lyra smiled, rummaging around in her stuff and passing Dorcas a tissue as a peace offering. “But I’m always here to rant to, you know that right?”

Dorcas smiled weakly, “I didn’t, but I do now. I always felt like you wouldn’t listen, you know?”

Lyra sat down on the bed next to her and watched her carefully. “I know I say some on the nose stuff, Doe, but I always want you to tell me. I have to learn some time, surely, and I _want_ to learn.”

“I know, and I know a lot of it isn’t conscious,” Dorcas sighed, rubbing her eyes again and forcing herself to take some deep breaths.

“But this isn’t about me right now,” Lyra smiled, nudging her friend’s arm. “How about we go to the rec room and make a massive mug of tea and I’ll share some gossip?”

“Gossip? You never mentioned gossip before,” Dorcas said, managing a little grin. The news still hurt, and just added to the pit of emotion that had been building since she’d come to Hogwarts at eleven and realised some people weren’t happy she was there, but she knew from bitter experience that dwelling on it for too long only made things worse. She silently memorised the names of the families as a reminder of what she was fighting for and got up. “Sounds good to me. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Lyra said firmly, “I mean it. I can be a right cow but I never want to be one to you. You can always talk to me, even if it’s chatting shit about me or my family.”

Dorcas laughed, “Who else would I chat shit with anyway?”

“True, I am great for that,” Lyra said, inspecting her nails and tilting her nose into the air.

Dorcas laughed again and hit her over the head with the newspaper before she dumped it and headed for the door. “Race you?”

“You’ll win!” Lyra whined.

“Precisely. Go!”


	6. October 1980

_20th October 1980_

“They’re here!” Dorcas whooped, recognising the sound of the Portkey appearing in the courtyard outside.

Lyra laughed as Dorcas raced to the window to see if the first arrivals were her family. Because the location was secret, the guests couldn’t just Floo in and, in the case of Dorcas’ Muggle family, they couldn’t apparate in even if they did know where they were going. Portkey had been the best way to get everyone in, because it didn’t require knowledge of the location at the other end like most magical forms of transportation, but it did mean the Portkey itself had to go backwards and forwards from the Ministry in London to the training compound so everyone was arriving one at a time.

They’d both dressed nicely for the occasion, Lyra having to wear her own clothes this time because none of Dorcas’ dresses fitted the much shorter Lyra, and she was in the only Muggle piece of clothing she’d managed to buy after leaving home, a white sundress that had been the first thing she’d seen in the Muggle fashion shop on Diagon Alley.

Lingering at the back of the room, Mason put his hands in his pockets and watched the excitement of all the recruits bubble over as the first boy ran out to greet his family. He was dressed in Muggle clothing too, today being a very informal day, and was wishing he wasn’t overseeing it because he wanted to see his own family. Between training here, Order work and his regular Auror work, he’d not managed to get home at all for over a month and he knew his mum was worried. But that would have to wait, and there were only a few more weeks of this phase of the Auror training anyway and then things would mostly go back to normal.

Lyra was next to Dorcas at one of the windows, gripping the windowsill and staring at the spot where the Portkey would materialise, hardly daring to believe that Sirius would appear there soon. Dorcas glanced across and smiled.

“He’ll be there, don’t worry!”

“I don’t know whether I’m more worried about him not arriving or about him being here,” Lyra admitted, jumping slightly as the next family arrived, one of the girls in their dorm squealing and pushing her way to the door.

“It’ll be okay,” Dorcas promised, “And if it’s not I will kick his fucking ass.”

Lyra laughed at that and nodded, “Thanks.”

“I can’t wait for my little siblings to see this place, they’re going to go mental,” Dorcas grinned, hoping some background chatter would calm Lyra’s nerves. “There’s three little ones, all girls, and my brother. Mum and Dad had their hands full!”

Lyra smiled, but the prospect of meeting her friend’s family – all Muggles – was almost as unnerving as meeting Sirius again.

The Portkey reappeared, this time with just one person.

“There he is,” Lyra said, choking slightly as she watched Sirius tug his leather jacket into place and set down the hat stand the Ministry had used for the Portkey.

“Go!” Dorcas grinned, shoving Lyra away from the window and waving to Sirius who saw her and laughed, waving back. 

Lyra half stumbled to the door, feeling Mason’s eyes on her too, and slipped outside to meet Sirius, cheeks flushed with nerves.

“Hi,” Sirius called, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as she approached, smiling shyly.

“Hi,” she replied, licking her lips. “It’s nice to see you.”

Sirius hesitated for a moment, but he closed the final step between them and hugged her quickly, pulling her up onto her tiptoes as she laughed quietly. “It’s nice to see you too, L. You look well.”

“Thanks, you do too,” she smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears as they let go. “We should probably find somewhere else, they’ll want the space for the others to come in.”

“Shit, yeah, uh, lead the way I guess,” Sirius smiled ruefully, glancing around him in amusement. “Seeing as we could literally be anywhere. It’s weird.”

“You get used to the not knowing, honest,” Lyra laughed, setting off towards the little path that wound around the edge of the training field and the buildings. 

They fell into a nearly comfortable silence as they set off, Sirius watching her curiously. It had been a year since he’d seen her last, and even before he’d graduated he’d not exactly looked closely at her or Regulus for fear of letting down the walls he’d built up so carefully. She’d grown, although not much because she was at least a head and a half shorter than he was, and she had a healthy glow to her skin that he assumed came from the training here. But the biggest difference was the way she held herself: he’d only ever seen her at Grimmauld Place or at school still under the influence of their parents and her back had been straight, her posture perfect, her head tilted up, carefully poised; now she seemed to glide, her actions more carefree, her hair loose down her back. He liked it, she looked more like the little kid he remembered than the young woman she’d been moulded into.

“How’s the training going?” Sirius ventured, clearing his throat.

“It’s going well, yeah!” she said, a little too enthusiastically, tripping over the words to get the conversation going. “We’ve got exams after this, the actual training is finished, hence the visit now because it’s not going to distract us from anything, and then we move back to the real world and do another ten weeks of interning. We’re assigned an Auror and we work with them, we shadow them and help out with smaller bits of work!”

“Yeah, Mason explained, it sounds awesome,” Sirius laughed. “Nearly considered doing this too, but I have no ability or inclination to follow orders.”

“What do you instead?” Lyra asked, curiously. “Do you work?”

“Nah, Uncle Alphard left me enough money when he died to get myself a place and I have enough to not have to work. I… do other things.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow slightly. “Other things?”

“War related things, to help, you know,” Sirius shrugged, having been given strict instructions not to mention the Order of the Phoenix to her yet.

“Oh, wow, okay,” she nodded, swallowing hard. “Well I hope finishing training and getting to do some real work will help too, I spent too long thinking it wasn’t my war.”

“Good to hear,” Sirius said gruffly, halting in his path. “I’m glad you left, but…”

“Why didn’t I do it sooner?” Lyra finished for him, stopping too and looking up at him, her features mirrored on his face, the Black genetics evident. “I… I was scared, Sirius.”

“I left,” he pointed out, “And I was scared too.”

“I know you’re angry,” she whispered, feeling sick with nerves at the sudden change in topic – this was the conversation they should’ve had years ago. “I’m angry with myself too. Being here, becoming friends with Dorcas, it’s opened my eyes. I didn’t leave for the same reasons that you did and I should’ve done, I should’ve cared more, but it’s not like I didn’t care either, Sirius. I just didn’t _know_.”

“And I tried to tell you!” Sirius said, trying and failing to keep the snap out of his voice.

“No, Sirius, you lectured me,” Lyra said warningly, “You lectured a scared thirteen year old about things I had no chance of understanding. I had no friends like Potter to tell me where I was going wrong, I had our parents clamping down on me and Reg when they saw you drifting.”

“Fine, but it took you this long? It took you six years? What about when they burned my name off the family tree for disagreeing? When Bellatrix killed her first Muggle? When your fiancé attacked Mary MacDonald?”

“If you were me, what would you have done?” Lyra said firmly. “Tell me. If you were me, not you.”

“I’d have left!”

“And gone where? Who would’ve taken me in? The Slytherin Pureblood friends I was raised with? You?”

“It doesn’t matter! You could’ve fought back!”

“And this summer when I tried to fight back, Robert hit me and threatened me with far worse. I did what I could, and I had to have a back-up plan before I just left. Being an Auror is my plan, I’ll have a wage now – I wasn’t gifted money by any relatives, remember? – and now I have friends who can help me. I waited because I needed an escape route first. Your escape route fell into your lap when you were sorted into Gryffindor and met Potter. I had to create my own.”

Sirius had the sense to look ashamed. “I hadn’t thought about it like that,” he admitted after a long pause.

“And, Sirius, I’m not saying our parents didn’t fuck you up, but it was so different for me. The control was different, the mentality in our circles isn’t the same towards boys, you always had more freedom. Please understand that I wanted to do something a long time ago, I knew it was wrong and that I was trapped, but that I couldn’t, because the only family member who I thought might help me wasn’t in contact with me,” she whispered. 

“It goes two ways, Lyra, you could’ve owled me, or found me at school-“

“I know, Sirius, it was my fault too, I’ll never deny that. But it’s different now, I left and I have no intention of going back. I just want that to be enough for you,” she admitted quietly. “Because I missed you. I missed my big brother.”

“I missed you too, you’re the only person apart from Remus who could ever talk sense into me,” Sirius admitted, shaking his head.

“The past still matters, I’m not going to deny I made mistakes too, Sirius, but I just want to move past it. Is that okay?” she asked gently.

Sirius stayed quiet for a long, nerve-wracking silence and then nodded. “It was a long time ago, and you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

“Good,” she smiled, her eyes brightening. “Now tell me about the girl?”

“Oh Merlin, you’re awful. You asked in every letter!”

“Because I want to know! What happened to the fifteen year old who declared he’d never fall in love or get married?” she teased.

Sirius glared at her jokingly, “I’m not married. Or in love. We’re… just on and off.”

“Which, from what I remember from school is more than most get, correct?”

“Correct,” Sirius grumbled.

Lyra looked smug. “What’s her name?”

“Marlene McKinnon,” Sirius laughed. “Mason’s sister.”

Lyra choked slightly, “As in, uh, _Mason_ Mason?”

“How many Masons do you know?” Sirius grinned, “Why, is that a problem?”

“Uh, no, I just didn’t know that you were dating his sister, he never said,” Lyra said faintly. Was it weird that she was also falling for a McKinnon? It certainly felt weird.

“Why would he say? Are you two friendly?” Sirius said, his eyes narrowing to slits, remembering Mason’s reaction when Sirius had asked him to give Lyra the letter.

“Well he’s an instructor here, and him and Dorcas are friends so we’ve chatted a few times,” Lyra said hastily. She’d also daydreamed about kissing him and imagined him naked but she doubted Sirius would want to know about those things.

“Hmmm.”

“What?”

“Not sure I approve, can’t have just anyone being friends with my little sister,” Sirius teased.

She breathed a secret sigh of relief. “Well don’t get all protective, I can look after myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” Sirius said genuinely, watching her for a moment. “Oh, I almost forgot! I brought you a late birthday present!”

“You didn’t have to do that!” she laughed, “Wasn’t the letter the birthday present?”

“A poor substitute, but I wanted to give this to you in person,” Sirius smiled, bringing out the little felt pouch from his pocket. “I remembered you loved sapphires, and Lene said something about them being your birthstone too? Not sure what that is exactly, maybe it’s a Muggle thing, but they’re really pretty anyway, so…”

Lyra opened the pouch carefully and removed the delicate silver chain with the sapphire crystal dangling on the end and gasped, holding it up to the light, watching the blue light refract off the faces of the gem and onto her skin. “Sirius, it’s… stunning. They’re so expensive, you really didn’t have to.”

He shrugged. “Consider it six years of birthdays and sorrys in one. Blue suits you anyway,” he smiled, watching as she put it on, the sapphire settling against her chest, glinting in the sunlight.

Once it was secure, she slipped the felt pouch into her pocket and threw her arms around him.

“The other half of your present is just the promise that you can share Uncle Alphard’s money if you need it. I know you’ll need to find a place soon, and if they need a deposit, or you need anything you couldn’t take from home, the money is yours. He gave it to me to help me become independent from them so I know he would’ve wanted you to have some now too.”

“Thank you,” she said gently, squeezing him tightly. The ache of losing her family was dulling now even if it still hurt, but knowing she had Sirius back was comforting.

“Don’t mention it,” Sirius said breezily but the the corners of his mouth were curled up happily as he hugged her back. 

Lyra fiddled with the necklace as she pulled away, unsure of what to talk about next now the big issues were out on the table. She was spared the awkwardness as she turned her head at a yell from the courtyard and several excited shrieks.

“LYRA! GET YOUR _ASS_ OVER HERE!”

“Muggle Jesus,” Sirius snorted, “She’s always so fucking loud.”

“Tell me about it,” Lyra muttered, but she headed back towards where the Portkey was, bracing herself for Dorcas’ family who must’ve been making the rest of the noise. She tucked and retucked her hair behind her ears, licking her lips as she tried to smooth her dress down, trying to remind herself that Dorcas’ family would not care and that the voice in her head telling her to check her appearance, her posture, her words, was just a ghost that couldn’t hurt her and didn’t matter.

“There you are!” Dorcas grinned as the pair rounded the corner. “Okay so I’ll introduce you and then we can go and find some lunch maybe? The twins are really hungry already and they get crabby when they’re hungry.”

Sirius muttered something about catching up with Mason and Lyra tried not to look too petrified as Dorcas hooked her arm through her friend’s and tugged her over.

“Uh, Doe, I’m really not-“

“My Mum will insist she try to feed you up although I’ve warned her you’re funny about food, she mentioned bringing some pampushka.”

“Doe, I’m awful with kids and-“

“Nonsense, come on!” Dorcas grinned, knowing that if she allowed her to self-sabotage and run off to hide, Lyra would only feel worse. “Ly, I wouldn’t do this if I you were genuinely scared.”

“How do you know I’m not genuinely scared?” Lyra said indignantly.

“You hyperventilate when you’re freaking out,” Dorcas shrugged, tapping her temple with a little grin. “I notice these things. But listen, as a back-up, if you need to take a break, just make some excuse and retreat to the dorm okay? I’ll make sure no one follows.”

“Thank you,” Lyra said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I know I’m dramatic, it just feels a little overwhelming.”

“Well think fast, kid,” Dorcas grinned, “Here’s Mum.”

“You _must_ be Lyra!”

Before she could even turn and smile, Lyra found herself spun into a tight hug.

“I’m Ruslana, Dorcas’ mother! I hope my daughter’s been good to you!”

“Mum,” Dorcas whined, rolling her eyes. “When am I not good to people?”

Ruslana gave her daughter an amused look and then handed Lyra a tupperware tub filled with what looked like dumplings. “These are pampushka, Dorcas told me the food here was awful-“

“Mum, I did not say that!”

“And so I made some, because you girls are burning so many calories with this training I can just _feel_ it!”

Lyra took the container carefully, frowning at it.

Dorcas clocked on after a few moments of Lyra turning it over in her hands. “Oh my God,” she laughed, earning a tut from her mum for the blasphemy, “Do you not know what Tupperware is? It’s plastic!”

“Plastic,” Lyra repeated, still frowning. 

“Yeah, I completely forgot that it was a Muggle thing! It’s _genius_, Ly, I missed it at Hogwarts. It just keeps stuff fresh in the box, and you can wash it and reuse it. Tupperware is so handy, we have so much of it!”

“Ah, so your parents are both magical?” Ruslana said knowingly, “Well I can assure you our world can be just as confusing as yours can be.”

Lyra nodded automatically, glancing back down at the box in her hand in wildly confused amusement. 

“Dorcas, Dorcas!”

The excited chorus of squeals reminded her that Ruslana was not the only member of the family she had to meet, and Lyra looked up and widened her eyes as the two little girls bounced towards them.

“Come here, you monsters,” Dorcas grinned, scooping up the first one to reach her, the other hanging off her legs. “These are the twins, Judith and Grace. They’re three, they’re so grown up now! And this is my slightly older but still younger sister, Ruth, aged nine and three quarters,” she laughed, Ruth sidling over after the twins and offering Lyra a shy smile. “And somewhere is Reuben. He’s, what, sixteen now? Way too cool for us all.”

“And your father, of course.”

“And Dad, yeah,” Dorcas grinned, “He’ll be having a nosey around elsewhere.”

“It’s lovely to meet you all,” Lyra said but even she could tell she didn’t sound too thrilled. Her voice was definitely shaky and she felt like she was sweating a weird amount.

Dorcas just laughed and put Grace down as the pair of girls scampered off towards their brother. Squeezing her friend’s hand, Dorcas tucked the box of baking into the bag she’d brought for this exact purpose (her mother was nothing if not predictable) and scanned the area for Mason.

“Oi, McKinnon!” she yelled, hands cupped around her mouth.

Mason looked up, as did Sirius who had been chatting to him, and grinned, winding his way through the now crowded area, the rest of the recruits’ families having arrived.

“Ah, this is your _friend_ Mason! Very handsome, no?” Ruslana said, winking at Lyra, who flushed.

Dorcas rolled her eyes and leaned into Lyra. “She doesn’t know about me being, you know, yet, so she wants him and I to be a thing. It’s really funny because he totally goes along with it.”

“Is Mason not sick of being set up with everyone he knows?” Lyra smirked, giving Dorcas a look. Clearly she got the love of matchmaking from her mum.

“Yes,” Mason replied, arriving in earshot and smirking back at her. “Mrs Meadowes, it’s lovely to see you again!”

“Ah, you, call me Ruslana! I say this every time!” she beamed, kissing both his cheeks happily, “Lovely to see you too!”

“Are you as lost as I am?” Lyra asked him, Dorcas having suddenly vanished to hunt down some three year olds, she suspected.

“No, my family is pretty much the same,” Mason grinned, “My mum also sets me up with anyone and everyone Marlene brings round for dinner.”

“Is it dumb that I didn’t realise that Dorcas’ family would also be black?” Lyra asked quietly, eyes darting around awkwardly.

Mason raised an eyebrow slowly. “What were you expecting? She gets it from her dad.”

“No, I know, I just… I just hadn’t pictured it. I don’t know any families like hers, the Pureblood community is… very white.”

“I suppose so,” Mason shrugged. “You get used to it. It’s hardly a big deal.”

She flushed with indignation. “I’m not saying that, I was just surprised.”

“Hey, I know,” he said gently, “And Dorcas knows too. If it helps, it’s just as much of a culture shock for them as it is for you, you being magical through and through. This is a whole new world for them too, I doubt they really understood it when their only connection was Hogwarts.”

Lyra adjusted the necklace clasp for something to do with her hands because she was very paranoid that her hands were shaking. “True. I just hate feeling out of my depth, it’s infuriating and I feel like I’m coming across like a massive bitch.”

“You’re not, promise,” Mason smiled.

“Forgive me if I don’t quite believe you.”

Mason laughed as the Meadowes clan assembled around them and Dorcas directed them all back inside towards the canteen, the sound of the younger girls clamouring for attention ringing in her ears. She felt a hand slide into hers and looked down in surprise, seeing Ruth watching her with wide eyes, her other hand gripping a very battered children’s book.

“Uh, hi,” Lyra said, clearing her throat and offering the little girl a smile. She was useless with kids, mostly because she was terrified of them. She felt no one really believed her when she said that, but even now with Ruth’s big doe eyes staring at her, assessing her, she felt panicked.

“Ruthie, sweetheart, do you want to sit with Lyra for lunch?” Dorcas called, herself trying to keep hold of the twins who seemed to want to race to the food.

Ruth nodded solemnly, hugging the book to her chest.

“You’ve been accepted, Ly,” Dorcas grinned, “That’s it for life.”

Lyra laughed nervously, hoping her expression signalled her panic to Dorcas but Dorcas wasn’t looking – she was yelling as Judith made a break for it, her little legs pumping as she giggled manically. Unfortunately for Judith’s escape plan, she made it just a few metres before Mason easily grabbed her under the arms and picked her up; she didn’t seem to mind much and wrapped her arms around his neck, still giggling and squirming.

“Gotcha,” Mason grinned.

Judith, obviously deciding that this new vantage point was much more fun than walking with Dorcas, settled into his arms happily and stayed quiet for once as Mason dropped back to rejoin the others.

“Mason, maybe you will convince Dorcas to give me grandchildren?” Ruslana teased, earning another eye roll from her daughter.

“Mum please,” she groaned as Mason smirked at her.

“You’d love my mum, I know she’s secretly devastated she’s not got any yet either, honestly. She’s been planning it all out for years,” he joked, shifting his grip on Judith easily, freeing his other hand so Grace could cling onto it, not wanting her sister to have all the fun.

“Me and Ly can start the ‘no kids please’ club,” Dorcas sniggered, “I have enough little siblings for that.”

“You don’t want kids?” Mason asked Lyra in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he’d have thought otherwise, she hardly seemed like a maternal type, but he’d also never considered not having kids himself and somehow these days she was tangled up in all those thoughts.

Lyra scrunched her nose up slightly. “I don’t know. They scare me, all the crying and attention and honestly, I just always assumed I’d have to have them so now I have the choice I’m not sure anymore. It’ll probably change, but for now – nope.”

Although seeing him there with the two toddlers in his arms as they begged him to swing them along the corridor, she got the appeal – he was hot all the time but even more so now. Her eyes followed him down the corridor as he chatted to the twins like he’d known them his whole life and she only stopping watching them when she felt Ruth tug on her sleeve, a secret smile on her lips.

“Do you have a crush on him?” she whispered up to Lyra.

Lyra looked down at her surprised and opened her mouth to say something, hesitating when she realised she wasn’t sure how to actually _talk_ to a nine year old. She settled on just talking to her normally, because she knew anything else would’ve pissed her off at that age.

“Is it really obvious?” Lyra said sheepishly, and Ruth giggled delightedly. 

“You think he’s really handsome? Have you kissed him?”

“Yes, and no,” Lyra laughed slightly as she answered both questions, “I want to though.” Why on earth was she telling all of this to a little girl? She wasn’t sure.

“He wants to kiss you too,” Ruth assured her, “You can always tell.”

“Yeah?” Lyra smiled, “How do you know?”

Ruth removed her hand from Lyra’s to hold up the book she was carrying. “He’s like Gilbert!”

“Who is Gilbert?” Lyra said, taking the book from her carefully and flipping it over to read the blurb.

Ruth looked positively thrilled to have been asked and took a deep breath before she launched into an explanation. “Gilbert is a boy at the school with Anne! They hate each other to start with because she’s just as clever as him and broke a slate over his head when he insulted her but Gilbert really really fancies her like Mason fancies you and he saves her on his boat because he loves her and she doesn’t know it but we do because it’s super obvious but then she realises she loves him too and they end up getting married and they have lots of kids!”

There wasn’t much that Lyra and Ruth could really have in common – but a love of reading was obviously one of them. Lyra handed back the clearly treasured book and nodded at Ruth’s explanation.

“The book sounds really good! How did you know that he loves her before she knew?” she asked, more than happy to talk books for the rest of the time as she realised she felt far happier around the girl when they were talking about a safe topic.

“He compliments her loads and offers to help her even though she doesn’t need it and he always defends her from the other boys at their school when they’re little and he doesn’t go out with anyone else even though he’s _really_ handsome! Also she gets proposed to by _someone else_ and he gets really really sad! It’s _sooo_ obvious!”

Lyra laughed. “So this Anne, she’s the main character?”

“Yes! I want to be just like her when I’m older except I maybe want to be a doctor not a teacher. I wish I had red hair, Anne has red hair,” she sighed, brushing her own plaited hair over her shoulder and imagining what it would look like as a sleek auburn colour not her own frizzy black.

“I love your hair,” Lyra said quickly, “My hair never looks nice and curly like yours, and you can do all sorts of lovely stuff with yours. I watched Dorcas re-braiding her hair the other day but she says you’re the best with hair, better than your mum!”

Ruth’s skin darkened with embarrassment as she looked up at Lyra from under her lashes. “You really like my hair?”

“It’s beautiful, I promise,” she smiled, taking her hand again. “And I bet Anne would want you to love your hair too, she seems like the kind of person who’d say that.”

Ruth squished up to her side, the book tucked back under her arm in its rightful place. “I could do your hair if you wanted me to?”

“I’d love that,” she promised, “After lunch maybe?”

The little girl nodded excitedly, skipping to catch up with her siblings but glancing over her shoulder with a little grin, seeing that Mason and Lyra were now the only ones left in the corridor, Ruslana and Joseph having taken the twins from Mason to get them settled.

“Scared of kids my ass,” Mason smirked, waiting by the door for her. “You were getting on like a house on fire!”

“She barely counts as a kid, she’s what, nine? The little ones that you had, however? Terrifying,” Lyra smiled, shrugging.

“Still, you did well,” he grinned, holding the door open for her.

Lyra flashed him a smile that made his heart skip a beat. “Thanks. You were a natural!”

Mason shrugged. “I’ve always liked kids, and I’ve got experience which I suppose makes a difference.”

“Oh, your brother, right? Mark?”

“Good memory,” he laughed, and she blushed, knowing she remembered because she daydreamed about most of their interactions. “But yes, with Mark and also James and Lily’s kid, Harry. He’s just under six months, he’s the sweetest little thing.”

She shuddered, “I really don’t think I’d cope with a _baby_ baby.”

“Awh come on, they’re so cute and chubby!” he pouted, grabbing some food and dumping it on his tray.

Lyra rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t be the one pushing it out though,” she retorted as she did the same and headed through the chaotic canteen towards the table that the Meadowes family had commandeered. 

Grimacing, Mason elbowed her shoulder. “That’s playing dirty, fucking hell! Phantom pains!”

“Ha,” she smirked smugly. “Now you get it.”

Ruth had guaranteed she was next to Lyra by saving her a seat and so Lyra squeezed in between Dorcas and her little sister, Mason opposite them, pulling faces at the twins in their highchairs. Lunch time was, as all lunch times are with anyone under the age of nine, a mess: there was plenty of food on the floor and not on the plates, plenty of whining from the two youngest and plenty of Reuben being reminded to put his comic away and actually talk to people. Sirius had also joined them after he’d gone for a self-guided tour around the place and he was now chatting with Mason animatedly, making even more noise at the table. To her own surprise, Lyra found herself slowly beginning to enjoy herself, even if keeping up with that many conversations at once was exhausting. She wasn’t sure how Dorcas managed it all the time but then again she supposed that growing up with it made a big difference.

Eventually Mason remembered that he was also supposed to be helping supervise the visitors so once the day was over, he helped the other Aurors round up all the guests and guide them back to the Portkey. No one wanted to say goodbye, but Lyra reminded them that there were only a few weeks until they finished their training here and headed back out into the wizarding world to continue the programme, and that they would see them all again then.

“I hate that them leaving means it’s revision time,” Dorcas grumbled, leaning against the wall and waving one last time as the Meadowes family and Sirius disappeared with the hat stand.

“Only three weeks, Doe, we can do this,” Lyra smiled, glancing across at her friend.

“Three weeks,” Dorcas replied grimly, “Let’s just hope we fucking pass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what my favourite childhood book was? I just couldn't help it they're such good books and also *side eye* very Mason and Lyra. I still swoon over Gilbert Blythe. Hope you enjoyed this chapter it was a lot of fun writing Dorcas' family and also!!! Sirius is here now yaaaayyy!!!


	7. November 1980

_8th November 1980_

The letters had been handed out at breakfast, the last breakfast they’d ever eat in the training compound. If they passed, they packed their things and took their ID photos for the Ministry ready to start their internship. If they failed any module, they still packed their things but left to find a new career path. Dorcas and Lyra both opened their letters nervously and then showed each other, holding their breath.

“We did it.”

“We did!”

“We’re onto phase 2!” Lyra breathed, shaking her head in disbelief as she stared at the piece of paper in her hand.

“We actually did it! I was so sure that I’d fucked up Stealth and Concealment,” Dorcas laughed, “I can’t believe this! My mum is going to be so proud!”

“Shit, we need to go and pack! We should get stuff sorted, there’s so much to do,” Lyra gasped, “There’s finding somewhere to live, we need to get the Auror robes, when do we actually start? Do we have time?”

“Chill,” Dorcas laughed, “We’ve got time! Remember we get the week and the advance pay to help us out, and we don’t need to do anything right this second!”

“Oh Merlin, I have no idea how to find somewhere to live,” Lyra said, face pale. She’d obviously known that this point would come sooner rather than later, but she’d not really allowed herself to think about it. Her life skills were focussed solely around running a house, not how to find one in the first place.

“Well that’s alright, because I do,” Dorcas grinned.

Lyra frowned.

“What, you really thought I’d want to live with anyone else?” she smirked, “You’re so thick sometimes. Lily is married, Marlene can’t keep anything clean and has no intention of moving out and having to pay for things, I am not living with any boys which rules out any of my other friends – and anyway, you’re my best friend!”

“You mean it?”

“Oh I mean it, the day I voluntarily live with a guy is a day you put me out of misery – I will clearly have gone insane,” she declared, hand on her forehead.

Rolling her eyes, Lyra dropped the letter and finished her porridge quickly, knowing that even if she had Dorcas to help her out, there was still a lot to be done in not much time.

“I don’t think you believe me, Ly, but I mean it. If that ever happens, I give you full permission to just kill me.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Lyra muttered, “Emma Vanity might overhear and think I’m plotting your death.”

Dorcas just barked with laughter and stood up happily. “Emma Vanity? I don’t care about her in the slightest, the petty bitch. I bet she didn’t pass anyway.”

“What has gotten into you?” Lyra grinned.

“_We did it!_ We’re in! Unless something disastrous happens between now and January, we are fully fledged Aurors! We get to wear the robes, we get to arrest people, we get to make a difference! You’re no longer a recruit which means Mason can make his move and I can start planning the wedding, and it means we have actual adult jobs! I’ve wanted this since I was twelve, Lyra, and look at us!” she gushed, grabbing up their letters and practically skipping out the door. “Come on, we have to pack!”

“When I said this before you told me that we had time!”

Dorcas gave her a look, “You were stressing, I am excited – big difference!”

“I don’t need to pack anything anyway, half my clothes were yours in the first place!”

“Oh my _God_ \- sorry mum, don’t take the Lord’s name in vain and all that – we can go shopping,” Dorcas beamed, tugging Lyra along and earning herself a laugh. “I’m going to have so much fun shopping for you!”

“With me, you shop with me,” Lyra corrected.

“For you,” Dorcas countered, smirking, “Because I have a plan.”

“I hate it.”

Dorcas pouted. “You don’t know what it is!”

“I can guess,” Lyra sniggered, “It definitely involves Mason and, judging from that look in your eyes, involves lingerie.”

“Okay you do know what it is,” Dorcas huffed, waving her hand dismissively, “But it’s a good plan.”

“All your plans suck.”

“La la la not listening! Let’s pack, I wanna get out of here!”

* * *

Dorcas’ enthusiasm had been infectious, and they’d spent the rest of the afternoon packing (aka throwing things haphazardly into the suitcases) and writing to various family members. Dorcas was going to crash at Mason’s place that night so she could stay in London and be near to the flat hunting areas, and Sirius had offered his sister his spare room with the warning that the Marauders often invited themselves into the flat and she should really make sure she was decent at all times just in case.

He’d collected her from the Ministry, apparating them back to the little alleyway beside his building because, as with most wizarding homes these days, the flat itself was heavily warded from Flooing and apparition in and out of it.

“Here we are, I’ll apologise in advance for any mess, I kind of forgot that you’d be finishing today or it would be cleaner,” Sirius said sheepishly, holding the door open for her.

She slipped inside with an amused smile because already she could’ve guessed it was his place: there was a half dismantled Muggle machine of some sorts in the corner, a leather jacket slung over one armchair and a million assorted magazines and vinyls that she remembered from his bedroom at Grimmauld Place.

“I like it,” she grinned, taking the suitcase back off him after he’d insisted on carrying it up the stairs for her.

“Uh, the spare room is just through here, that’s the bathroom on the right, help yourself to stuff from the fridge or whatever you want, really,” Sirius smiled back, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. “Do you want a drink? Alcohol, or juice or something more responsible?”

She dumped the suitcase by the bedroom door and nodded. “Uh, just water please. And rewind – what’s a fridge?”

Sirius had gone to turn the tap on but then paused and turned back to face her. “What do you mean what’s a fridge?”

“I mean what’s a fridge,” she snorted, “Is it some Muggle thing?”

“I assume you didn’t take Muggle studies?” Sirius said sarcastically but he was smiling anyway. “It’s like an ice box, but better because it uses electricity. Shit, do you even know what that is?”

“Electricity?”

“Yeah!” he laughed.

Lyra shrugged, “I’ve heard of it. Doesn’t it make lights work without a flame? The lights at the training centre were all electric apparently.

“God this is all going to blow your mind,” Sirius laughed, handing her the glass of water and then opening a bottle of beer for himself. “Brace yourself.”

Lyra laughed and took the water gratefully, glancing around the flat again. The last few days had been a rollercoaster with the final exams, finding out they’d passed and now here she was standing in the flat of her brother who, until a few weeks ago, had been a stranger to her. She was glad that now they were back in the ‘real world’ things would fall into a natural rhythm and she could find her feet again. Until that happened, she would just try and ride the wave.

“HONEY, I’M HOME!”

Lyra jumped, half spilling the water over herself and cursing, grabbing her wand from her pocket to clean it up quickly.

“What did I say about the boys?” Sirius snorted, grinning broadly as the three men barged into the living room, Remus remembering to shut the front door behind them.

“Honey, I missed you,” James continued dramatically, spinning around as he threw an arm around Sirius’ shoulders. “Did you miss me t-hello who is this?”

Lyra cleared her throat and blushed. “Hi, uh, I’m Lyra.”

James’ eyes lit up with recognition at the name and he looked between Sirius and Lyra with a grin. “I should’ve guessed.”

“Yeah, Prongs, they’re basically identical, who did you think it was?” Peter snorted.

“Well I’m _sorry_,” James pouted, “I wasn’t expecting it!”

“Your manners are all shit,” Remus scoffed, pushing his way through the others and pecking Lyra’s cheek. “Lovely to meet you! Sirius has caught us all up on everything and we’ll make sure James doesn’t ask any invasive questions.”

James looked affronted so Sirius handed him the beer bottle to get him to shut up.

“Oh, lovely to meet you guys too,” Lyra laughed, wrapping her hands around her glass and leaning against the kitchen counter to ground herself. “Sirius has told me all about you guys too.”

“Who did he say was his favourite?” Peter asked eagerly.

“Lily,” Sirius said sarcastically, making Remus laugh loudly as he dumped his jacket on top of Sirius’.

She’d often wondered how Sirius had done it, how he’d upped and left and abandoned everyone he’d known his whole life for a bunch of boys in his Hogwarts house but now… now she got it. Never in her life had she seen Sirius look so at ease, so open, and the resemblance between the two siblings seemed a million miles away as Sirius beamed and the boys barrelled into the living room to find a track to play on Sirius’ very well dusted record player. Biological siblings seemed like a very tenuous connection as she watched the familiarity Sirius chatted to his friends with. 

Lyra felt a little curl of envy snake its way around her stomach and squeeze, her grip on the glass tightening as she followed them quietly, suddenly feeling out of place in the group. She wished it had just been her and Sirius for a bit longer. How was it fair that they knew Sirius better than she did?

“What you thinking about?” James asked casually, and she jumped, realising that he was still standing next to her and not with the others like she’d thought.

“Nothing.”

“I know that look,” he shrugged, “It was on Sirius’ face the whole Christmas holiday the first time he stayed at ours.”

“What is it then?” she retorted.

James licked his lips before he answered. “Jealousy. A hint of loneliness.”

“You don’t know me, Potter.”

“But I think you know me?” he offered, taking a gulp of his own beer.

“Sirius lived with you after he left, right?” Lyra said quietly, still watching her brother.

“He did.”

“He chose to leave and live with you rather than stay at home and help us,” she added, taking a deep breath as she felt the familiar tightness in her chest.

James couldn’t exactly deny it, so he hesitated and then slowly nodded.

Lyra managed a smile and looked across at James. “I think part of me will always be angry about that, Potter, but not at you or him. Anyone with eyes can see he was happier out of that house, even if me and Regulus still wanted him there.”

He met her gaze carefully, staying quiet as he picked through words in his head, making sure he was going to say what he meant. He wasn’t pitying her – if she was anything like Sirius, pity would only earn him a glare – but he did want to make sure that there wasn’t any unease or resentment between them all. Unbeknownst to Lyra, but something the Marauders were obviously well aware of, was the Order of the Phoenix; with all four of them, as well as Mason and Dorcas as members, Lyra was a crucial part of the balance without even knowing it, and it wouldn’t do for there to be issues. On a more personal level, James did genuinely want to be friends with her despite the previous gulf between them.

“I know he’d never tell you this, or even tell the others. It might be that he doesn’t even remember – you know the circumstances he left under,” James mumbled, shivering slightly as he remembered the night Sirius’ had apparated into their living room, splinched and bleeding. “But the first thing he said, the only thing he said before he passed out, was ‘I couldn’t let him hurt them’. My mum had been worried about him, but you and Regulus too. She hated the thought of the three of you there but Sirius had always said that you two were okay, that it was just him getting this treatment.”

Lyra flinched slightly because it was true. She’d suspected for a long time that Sirius provoked their father when he was in a temper so her and Regulus weren’t hurt, but it was heartbreaking hearing it confirmed.

“He spent the whole summer tearing himself apart, debating if he should go back and try and get you to leave too,” James continued, allowing the music now playing to mask their conversation from the others.

“My dad nearly did go with him, to try and get Orion to let you two go. Mum was split in two, not wanting to get into something bigger than we could handle – we didn’t ever have legal guardianship of Sirius, if the Ministry forced us to let Orion take him back, it would’ve got messy. I’m not saying this to be like ‘wow isn’t he a good guy’ I’m just trying to say… we’re not the enemy, and I think you know that. I don’t want to be the guy that Sirius chose over you, I think you’re pretty cool,” James smiled. “I just want you to know that he felt awful about it for a long time. You weren’t forgotten about just because he was with us.”

Lyra laughed slightly and nodded. “In all honesty, I don’t know if we would’ve left then even if you had appeared as a saviour with glowing lights and a chorus of angels around you. I didn’t see it the way I do now, I didn’t want to think that Sirius had done the right thing, you know? But I’m a big girl, Potter, I’m willing to let the old stuff go, I promise. None of it matters now anyway. It’s just a large adjustment in a very short time period.”

“Are you sure?” he checked, “And call me James, yeah?”

“Sure,” she smiled, shoulders untensing.

“I hope you know…” he said slowly, pausing to be dramatic, “This does mean that you don’t have one older brother, you now have four,” James smirked, “So come and hug it out!”

“Don’t make me regret this, James,” she warned, taking a step back. “You’re ruining the moment.”

“Oi, you lot! Group hug with the new little sister!” James yelled.

“I hate you,” she whined, trying to back towards the door, “Sirius, help!”

“You can’t stop the hugs, believe me I’ve tried,” Sirius said apologetically as she was swept up into a bear hug, James spinning her around easily as Remus and Peter piled in too. “Just ride it out.”

“I hate you _all_,” she gasped, glaring as Sirius leaned over his mates to ruffle her hair.

“She hates us all? Wow she’s going to get on with Lily just fine,” Remus smirked and James shoved him with a grin.

“You’re all _children_,” she grumbled, “And you spilled my water!”

“It never fails to amaze me that you actually do have a child, Prongs,” Sirius mused, drying the water with a careless flick of his wand. “When you have the mental capacity of a four year old.”

“I’m very mature for my age,” James insisted, adjusting his wedding ring smugly.

Lyra shook her head. “Merlin help me. I think I made a mistake.”

The Marauders just laughed, the sound filling the flat, and she smiled slightly as Remus made space for her on the sofa. Peter turned the record over and set the needle back in place gently, Sirius randomly threw a cushion at James so hard his glasses went flying, and Remus choked on his beer at the sight, making her laugh too; she felt the tendril of jealousy that had formed earlier slinking back down to where it came from, her chest loosening as she realised that even if everything was happening at a thousand miles an hour, she didn’t have to deal with that by herself any more. Sirius had managed to survive this, finding people who genuinely cared for him and seemingly cared for her too, and for the first time she understood. Her brother was sat opposite her, bottle in hand and chatting loudly. His friends had accepted her and took her into the fold easily. Across London in Mason’s flat, Dorcas was just a phone call away and soon they’d be living together. And Mason himself – they were feelings for another night, but even the thought of him chased away the last of the nasty emotions from earlier. She didn’t talk much for the rest of the evening, but it was a choice on her part, not a rule imposed by someone else, and the warmth that the knowledge provided made her feel as drunk as the Gryffindors around her were by the time she made her excuses and headed to bed.

Perfectly happy, Lyra curled up in Sirius’ spare room in a borrowed shirt, the golden light from the living room spilling under the door, the muffled sound of the boys talking and “Summer Nights” still playing in the background sending her to sleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

Dorcas and Lyra had spent all day going between flat viewings with the advantage over the Muggles that they could just apparate between the streets, saving a lot of time travelling around London. Armed with Dorcas’ general knowledge of the Muggle world and Ruslana’s long list of advice on finding a good place to live, they’d already ticked off all the places they’d seen today, and now they were at the last one.

“This had better be nice,” Lyra grumbled as they walked up the street from the closest location Dorcas knew to be able to apparate them to. “I’m hungry and my feet hurt and I want to know where we’re living.”

“Listen, this one is going to be the right one, I’m going to talk it into existence! And remember, we can do a lot more to make a place look nice with magic than a Muggle person living here could!” Dorcas smiled, “My mum found this one in the paper and she’s got far better sense than we have.”

“I can’t argue with that one,” Lyra snorted, greeting the letting agent politely and then letting Dorcas do the talking as they headed up the staircase to the top floor flat.  
“This place comes with your fridge, freezer, and general kitchen appliances are all in place too, obviously it’s half furnished so there are some things you guys would need to find,” the agent explained as she showed them around, checking everything as they went.

Lyra ran her fingers along the kitchen counter and smiled as she looked out of the little window above the sink. It was nothing like she was used to from Hogwarts or Grimmauld Place, but it was the kind of place she could imagine this new version of her living: there were corners that would look great filled with massive armchairs and space for all their things and the master bedroom’s view skimmed the rooftops of the city, and in the autumn evening light the whole place was filled with warm light.

“I love it,” Lyra smiled, turning back to Dorcas, whose own grin mirrored Lyra’s.

“Good, because I do too.”

“You’re the only people to have viewed it, and there’s no more interest currently – the owner asked us to get it leased as soon as possible so if you were happy to come into the office tomorrow, we could sort out the paperwork?”

“We’d love that,” Dorcas said quickly, not wanting to let the chance slip by. “We’d like to move in right away, is that possible? The advert said it was available from this week.”

“It is possible,” the estate agent laughed, “If tomorrow worked for you two, and we got everything done, you could have the keys by the next day. Does that work?”

Lyra’s grin widened. “That would be perfect, thank you!”

“How does ten o’clock tomorrow morning work for you?”

The two girls exchanged a look and then nodded. “Yes, that’s fab. Is it just the office address listed on the advert?” Dorcas checked.

“It is,” the agent confirmed, picking up their bag off the table. “The door locks as you leave, so if you’d like to stay a few minutes longer to look around, that’s fine by me. I’ve got another appointment to get to, and you two seem trustworthy.”

“Fantastic, thank you,” Dorcas gushed, walking them over to the door and promising that they’d see them tomorrow for sure. 

Lyra spun on the spot slowly, taking it all in again now it was just the two of them. There were some issues, sure – there were some peeling walls and the carpet was threadbare – but they could afford it, and those things could be fixed with a tin of paint and some well placed rugs. More importantly, it felt safe and cosy and she could already picture it as _their_ flat and not just four walls and furniture.

“I can’t believe it, my positive affirmations worked,” Dorcas teased, nudging Lyra’s side. “We’re going to have a flat!”

“Don’t jinx it, Doe, honestly,” Lyra snorted. “But yes, we’re going to have a flat.”

“You want the bigger room, yeah?”

“I’m not going to take the bigger room, Dorcas, it should be done on a coin toss,” Lyra snorted, shaking her head.

Dorcas gave her the familiar ‘shut up’ look. “I saw your face in there! The view over the city was gorgeous! But honestly, have it. I’ve shared a room with my sisters until Dad moved his home office and I took over the room, so I’m just thrilled to have my own space!”

Lyra returned the glare with her ‘stop being nice’ look. “Okay, but only because we’re going to spend so little time in our rooms with interning and everything going on!”

Dorcas laughed loudly and shrugged. “Very true. But either way, any time we’re here we’ll be on the massive sofas I can picture for this room!”

“And some armchairs, for reading in,” Lyra grinned, pointing to the spot she’d thought of earlier.

“I love it! Mum will definitely give us some cushions and stuff, and Mason told me that his mum has promised us anything we need too!”

Lyra grinned, feeling relieved that her own lack of belongings wouldn’t mean they had to spend too much money or make Dorcas feel pressured to do anything more than she already was. “Sounds good! And we can finally get the photos developed properly and put them up too!”

“And then it’ll be record bin trawling to get some good ones, and digging out all my old dorm posters from Hogwarts!” Dorcas said, voice getting even louder in her excitement. She bunched her hair, now freshly rebraided, in her hand and bounced on the spot. “God, Ly, this place is going to be _sexy_.”

“Can a flat be _sexy_, Dorcas?” 

“It can now!”

Lyra rolled her eyes and grinned. “Despite what the agent said, we should probably leave and lock this place up. We’ll be back here very soon anyway!”

“Oh shit yeah, don’t want them thinking we’re going to squat here,” she snorted, grabbing her jacket and throwing it back on. “Are you apparating back to Sirius’ place?”

“Yeah, he’s out tonight, so I’ve got the place to myself. Do you want to come over?” Lyra offered.

Dorcas pulled a face – they all had an Order meeting, so she wasn’t free either. “Family dinner, can’t skip it, sorry sweetheart. See you in the morning though? Owl me if you forget the address, my mum wrote it down.”

Lyra nodded easily, freeing her hair from the collar of her coat after zipping it back up. “Sure, don’t worry. I’ll see you then to sign some papers!”

Dorcas whooped as she headed for the door. “Exciting times! I’ll see you soon, gorgeous!”

“See you soon, Doe,” Lyra laughed, watching as Dorcas shut the door, leaving her to apparate out of the empty flat back to Sirius’ street.

They had a flat, Dorcas’ wishful thinking had served them well, and it felt like the start of _everything_.

* * *

“Mason, please watch your back,” Dorcas tutted, “Lift with the knees. Okay, a little to your left, and then backwards.”

“Why the fuck did we volunteer to do this?” James grimaced, as they moved the heavy armchair into place and then carefully set it down. “I love you, Meadowes, but not this much.”

The flat was bursting with activity, and Lyra was just gripping her box of things in the middle of the room as not only Dorcas, but also her mum, Sirius and the boys, Mason, a blonde girl who she assumed was Mason’s sister, and Lily with baby Harry all tried to navigate through the small and rapidly overcrowded living room.

“Ly, you look like you’re about to faint,” Dorcas grinned, taking the box off her. “I assign you drink duty, the kitchen box is already in there. I would just churn out teas and coffees and see who takes what, honestly.”

“Yes boss, thank you boss,” Lyra laughed, retreating to the little kitchenette to find the box of essentials that Ruslana had brought them and rummaging around in it for the kettle and teabags. The Muggle fridge had also been stocked with the bare minimum but the concept was still wild to her and she snorted with amusement as she opened the door to fetch the milk.

“Need a hand?”

Lyra turned around as she tried to work the gas hob, lowering the kettle in her hand in defeat and smiling at the pretty redhead. 

“Hi, you must be Lily. James mentioned you,” she explained, stepping back and allowing her to slip over.

“Oh bless him, he does that a lot,” Lily grinned. “You’re Lyra, right? Sirius and Dorcas have both talked endlessly about you. Nice to finally meet you. How are you coping?”

“Judging by the fact that I’ve been relegated to making drinks and I’m completely lost in my own flat? Pretty well,” Lyra snorted, running a hand through her hair.

Lily threw her head back laughing before she took the kettle from Lyra and swiftly filled it up and set it on the gas hob, now burning merrily. “I’m a Muggleborn, so this stuff is natural for me, don’t stress,” she added when she saw Lyra’s facial expression. “I’m sure you’re only as confused as I was when I first arrived at Hogwarts to see talking portraits and floating candles.”

“I guess,” Lyra smiled, starting to unwrap the mugs from the newspaper they’d been packed in. “That isn’t the only confusing stuff at the minute, honestly. A lot is going on.”  
Lily had the kind of face that made you want to tell her everything, so Lyra continued.

“I’m surrounded by so many people that I either barely know, or only met recently, and they all somehow know each other and it’s just me being hit with it over and over again,” she admitted, glancing back through to the living room where Sirius was now taking a break with Marlene perched on his knee, Harry cradled in her arms, glancing around at everyone. “It’s…”

“Lonely?” Lily smiled, watching her son fondly for a moment before turning back to Lyra, who was now scooping carefully measured teaspoons of coffee into each mug.

“Lonely kind of doesn’t cut it, sometimes. It feels like they don’t quite get that, even Sirius.” she mumbled, not meeting Lily’s eye as she moved on to dish out teabags. 

Lily sighed deeply and watching the younger girl for a moment before she opened her mouth to reply. “You aren’t the only one here who’s felt like an outcast. I won’t speak for the others but I’m a Muggleborn. Which means I’ve spent most of my time in the wizarding world being told that I don’t belong here. On top of that, I’m estranged from my sister, a feeling that I’m sure you understand. Before me and James got together, I spent a lot of time feeling jealous of his friendship with the boys. Ask Sirius, ask any of them out there, they’d all have some story of feeling left out, we're a bunch of misfits, honestly. Just because you’re the new one right now doesn’t mean you’re the only one who’s ever experienced it. They’d understand if you told them.”

Lyra’s eyes widened slightly.

The other girl sighed and her shoulders dropped. “I’m genuinely not trying to be a bitch, but I get it, honestly, the feeling like you’re just on the outside of something you want but can never reach? Feeling like you’re never going to fully be included?”

“Lily, I…”

“Sirius cares about you, Dorcas does too. James and the boys would already do a lot for you. Dorcas tells me there’s something with you and Mason-“

“Dorcas needs to shut up-“

“Maybe, but my point stands. Of course it feels overwhelming and you don’t know if you’re going to have proper relationships with them all when you’re joining the group so late, but if you stand in the kitchen and allow yourself to feel that way, then it’ll stay that way.”

Lyra stayed quiet for a moment, before the kettle started screeching and she removed it from the heat quickly, pouring the boiling water into as many mugs as they had.

“Have I just been a massive bitch?” Lily winced. “James always tells me that neither of us have a good filter. I’m sorry, really.”

“No, no, you’ve not been a bitch. You’ve been honest,” Lyra said, glancing back up at her with a small smile. “You’re right, I mean it. I did jump to conclusions about you and everyone in there and I can’t do that anymore. This stuff goes both ways.”

“They’re a horrifically messy extended family to have, but they’re also the best people in the world. Give them a chance and give _yourself_ one too, yeah?”

“I’m sorry if I was rude,” Lyra said plainly, stirring the coffees and watching Lily’s expression. “I’m pretty bad at that.”

Her green eyes sparkled slightly and she seemed to relish the next sentence that came out of her mouth. “That’s alright. I’d be more concerned if you were perfect - and it was starting to look that way the way Mason has been going on about you!”

Lyra choked slightly. “What?”

“Tea and coffee is ready!” Lily called, still smirking slightly as Lyra gaped at her.

Everyone immediately barrelled in and James handed Harry back to Lily who just winked at the still stunned Lyra. Grateful for the break from moving boxes and furniture, Sirius ruffled Lyra’s hair as he slipped past to dig out the sugar for Marlene. Lyra made a mental note to ask him about that – on and off her ass. Ruslana had to head off, and Peter had work, so they said their goodbyes and left once they’d finished their drinks, and James took Harry home for his nap, which meant any reason to behave themselves in front of babies and actual adults vanished, and the group got gradually more giddy. 

Lyra decided that she liked Marlene, Mason’s much blonder younger sister who was never more than a metre away from Sirius, whose eyes were on her at all times whether he realised it or not. She had a wicked laugh and her jumpsuit was just one piece in her brightly patterned wardrobe that she’d immediately offered to share with Lyra after she complimented it.  
Lily had refused to answer any more questions on her comment about Mason, and he’d always been within earshot anyway, so once everyone dispersed to finish unpacking boxes, Lyra grabbed Lily’s sleeve and tugged her towards the bedroom. Marlene and Dorcas exchanged a look and bounded across the flat too, leaving the boys with the excuse of ‘girl time’ they all piled into Lyra’s bedroom, Marlene shutting the door firmly.

“Okay well I just needed to speak to Lily, honestly,” Lyra said uncertainly.

“Incorrect answer,” Dorcas grinned. “You speak to all of us.”

“This feels like an intervention,” Lyra continued, glancing between them.

Lily folded her arms across her chest, grinning smugly. “You want to know what Mason has said about you?”

Lyra’s cheeks flushed. “Dorcas, why can’t you keep a fucking secret?”

“I keep the ones that matter, but the fact that you are doing nothing about your feelings means that I have every right to recruit the others to help me!”

Marlene flopped onto the unmade bed. “And Lily never ever passes up a chance to play matchmaker. She’s also really good at it, honestly.”

“She sent you on a date with Gideon Prewett!” Dorcas protested.

“Who, admittedly, was not right for me, but it was a lovely date and he was pretty good in the sack,” Marlene mused, pulling her hair into a messy bun. “Not as good as S-“

“Nope,” Lyra said firmly, shaking her head. “Don’t want to know. I just needed to know what he’d been saying about me in case it was bad.”

“Oh God, if only it was bad,” Dorcas grimaced. “He forgets that I _also fucking know you_ and don’t need all this shit from him too.”

Lyra buried her face in her hands. “What does he say?”

Lily cackled happily. “Lyra said this today, isn’t that funny? She’s so smart! Did you know she can use wandless magic? Did you know she makes her own spells? Lily, she beat me in a duel! She’s going to be a great Auror! I’d never even met you and I felt like I knew you!”

“Nothing there is, like _romantic_,” Lyra cringed. “That could mean anything!”

“Lyra, I lived with him my whole life,” Marlene said from the bed where she was rummaging through the case of clothes and sorting them into piles. “I know what he’s like when he’s into someone.”

“That stuff still doesn’t mean he’s into me!”

Marlene shrugged. “My input is that he’s been less aggressive recently. With work and – just work –“ she corrected herself quickly, “He gets really stressed. But he’s been much happier recently. I assumed he was getting laid, but apparently not, it’s just you.”

“I wish I had never asked,” Lyra mumbled, closing her eyes tightly, cheeks burning. 

Dorcas patted her shoulder. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you months ago! I have a sixth sense for this stuff!”

“Okay, but you seriously haven’t even kissed? No flirting, nothing?” Lily said impatiently. “Although I may live to regret encouraging this, last time it was Sirius and Lene and now they are together it’s disgusting.”

“We aren’t _together_ together,” Marlene interrupted, “Just to clarify.”

Rolling her eyes, Lily sat down next to her school friend and helped with the clothes. Wanting to do something rather than stand there getting more and more embarrassed, Lyra grabbed a box of books and started slotting them onto the shelves next to her bed.

“Okay, but I think what everyone is trying to say is that it’s not just me that can see you two are into each other,” Dorcas grinned, “He makes you happy, you’re making him happy – can you imagine what it’ll be like when you’re actually hooking up?”

“Merlin, Dorcas,” Lyra groaned, slotting the last book on her shelf and stepping back. “Crude, much?”

“Crude but true,” Lily mused, smoothing her thick hair down and glancing around the room.

Marlene dumped the box by the door and hopped back up again. “Is this everything? There’s not much, is there.”

Dorcas and Lily shot Marlene an angry glare immediately, worrying that Lyra would take offence, but Lyra just shrugged.

“It’s all at Grimmauld Place still, isn’t it? I’ve only got what I could fit into my suitcase when I left,” she explained, and Marlene had the good sense to look ashamed.  
“I forgot that,” the blonde said apologetically, “Sirius was the same, he just had the school trunk. I think Mr Potter went back for stuff though, right?” she said, glancing across at Lily, who might also remember the story.

“Maybe,” Lily shrugged, “But he left very differently. Would you even want to get more stuff?”

Lyra chewed the inside of her cheek nervously. “I don’t know. I don’t know why my father would let me into the house to get stuff even if I did want anything back. There’s more books, photos, school things that I’d probably get if I could, my stuff from Regulus and Sirius too, but…”

“But it would involve actually going back and seeing them?” Dorcas finished.

“Bingo,” Lyra smiled, shrugging. “It’s not the end of the world, honestly. Uh… I think I left my cup of tea in the kitchen, so I’ll just go and grab it and check on the boys, don’t break anything while I’m gone.”

She vanished, taking the now empty box with her.

Lily raised an eyebrow slowly “Are you guys both thinking what I’m thinking?”

Dorcas and Marlene exchanged a look. “No?”

Lily scoffed and flicked her hair behind her shoulder smugly. “All wizards have to open the door for an Auror, right?”

“Yeah, everyone knows that,” Marlene frowned.

“And who do we know who is both an Auror and emotionally involved with Lyra?” Lily continued with a smirk, twisting her wedding ring around her finger absentmindedly.

“Lily, I’ve said it before,” Dorcas grinned, “And I’ll say it again now – you’re a fucking genius.”

She bowed teasingly. “What would you all do without me? Operation ‘retrieve the photos, books and mementos’ is go!”

“Operation ‘find a better operation name’ is first, though,” Marlene drawled.

* * *

Lyra and Dorcas, dressed in their brand new black and silver robes, Flooed into the atrium of the Ministry for their first official day as Aurors, dusting the soot off the crisp material of the uniform and glancing around. They’d both been to the Ministry before but it was very different being there as an employee – as an _Auror_ \- even if they were very junior employees. Everyone seemed to know where they were going and the chaotic energy that Lyra remembered from several visits with her father was still present now, if a bit more taut – there was a war on now after all.

“Okay, the Auror department is on level two, so we should find one of the lifts,” Lyra said, orienting herself in the large space and then heading towards the back corner. “Do we just find Moody’s office, have the meeting and leave again today?”

Dorcas nodded, checking the letter that they’d received the previous day. “Yeah apparently it’s just a five minute thing so they know we’re here and have got our instructions. Are you excited to see who you’ll be working with?”

“Absolutely sick with nerves,” Lyra grinned, “But yes, very excited. My meeting was scheduled just after yours, so I guess Moody knows that we’re living together.”

“Wow who would’ve guessed,” Dorcas smirked, jabbing the lift button and leaning against the wall, minding out for the little purple paper aeroplanes hovering overhead.

Lyra rolled her eyes with a snort and chewed her lip as they stepped out into the Auror department. The noise here was much more noticeable, and the individual cubicles they passed on the way to Moody’s office seemed overflowing with parchment, maps, scrawled notes on folders and rather stressed looking witches and wizards, all in the same black and silver robes that marked out their profession from the rest of the Ministry who wore their own robes.

Moody greeted them at the door to his office and Lyra sat herself outside to wait for Dorcas’ meeting to finish, deciding to continue people watching and daydreaming about actually getting to work here. The five minutes passed quickly, and Dorcas emerged looking thrilled, accompanied by a man Lyra vaguely recognised but couldn’t place.

“Ly! I’m with Auror Longbottom!”

Auror Longbottom – Frank, she remembered now, realising she knew him from Pureblood gatherings as a kid – waved and smiled before leading Dorcas the other way to show her around properly.

Lyra smiled back and then saw Moody standing in the doorway so she hurried over, dusting down her robes automatically.

“Good morning, Black,” Moody chuckled. “Are you ready?”

“I think so,” she admitted, smiling slightly, heading past him and sitting down in the chair, feeling like she was back at the start of the summer with her CV and a desperate expression.

“Auror McKinnon!”

Lyra’s head whipped back to the door from where she’d been studying the desk. What?

“Come in and greet your mentee,” Moody called, jabbing his cane towards where she was sat.

Mason looked bemused but extricated himself from his desk and made his way over. He took one step into the office and then stared right back at Lyra, whose eyes were now very round. No way.

“I figured seeing as the two of you worked so well together in your duel during training that it made sense to partner you up now,” Moody explained, lowering himself into his chair. “Problem?” he added, raising a bushy eyebrow as Mason continued to watch Lyra warily.

“No problem, Sir,” Mason said, folding his arms and standing next to the desk.

Lyra swallowed slightly but she shook her head too, not sure what to say. Mason’s body language was really not giving off the impression he was pleased by this, and she tried to remind herself that she’d done nothing to piss him off and – if what the girls had said the other day was true – he did rather like her. Even so, she could feel his eyes burning into her and it didn’t feel pleasant.

“McKinnon, Black will be working with you on all your active cases, including out in the field where it’s appropriate. She’ll help with paperwork, you will show her the ropes, when you work she works, you know the drill.”

Mason blinked once and then licked his lips. “Moody, I didn’t think I was being assigned an intern Auror this time around. You know I’m busy.”

Moody looked at Mason for a moment, because Moody of all people knew that Mason was effectively doing double time with the Order too. “I know you’re busy, yes, but Black is more than capable of helping, therefore making it easier for you.”

Mason looked distinctly unhappy with that answer but nodded.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Lyra asked timidly, really wanting to get out of the room.

Moody glanced at her and shook his head. “You did well, kid. Good to have you. Now get McKinnon to show you around. See you tomorrow morning.”

Dazed by both the introduction to the job and the knowledge that she would be working with Mason, Lyra zoned out for the entire tour, barely taking in her surroundings, Mason's words just noise in her ears. He noticed but didn't blame her as he felt much the same: they were both trying to process the fact that now they were not only working in the same place, but they were working _together_. As Moody had said, when Mason worked, Lyra would too. When he went out to make an arrest, she would be there. They’d spend most of their time together from now until she finished interning and graduated the training programme, which was another three months. He knew he had to find a way to get through it – Moody was right, they would make a very good pair – but it wasn’t going to be easy when his feelings for her were becoming far too obvious to even the casual observer. January felt a very long time away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a long one, and a turning point in the story!! We're officially out of the training section now!! The war related stuff will definitely be ramping up, so I hope y'all are ready lmao. Let me know what you thought, mwah mwah!!


	8. November 1980

_17th November 1980_

The Ministry of Magic had decreed that Aurors shouldn’t travel to and from the Ministry in their work robes, having decided that the easily identifiable silver edged uniform put them in danger of an attack, so Lyra turned up that morning in her Muggle skirt and blouse, a bag containing the robes on her shoulder, feeling woefully unprepared but also raring to go. Frank had been in touch the previous evening to let Dorcas know what she would be doing, but Lyra hadn’t received anything from Mason, so hadn’t really known what to bring with her.

She knocked on the door if his office, biting her lip and hoping he was in a good mood today.

“Come in.”

“Uh, hi, it’s me,” she smiled, poking her head around the door. “I was wondering where the nearest toilets are? I need to change. And where do I put my stuff?”

Mason looked up from his desk and smiled tightly, taking a deep breath. “Stuff goes here, I’ve cleared some space in for your things. And toilets are just back out in the main corridor.”

He could tell that she’d been stressing about what to wear – he was pretty sure the white blouse had been ironed with an actual iron it was that crisp – but she needn’t have bothered. She looked lovely (as always) and, however unprofessional the thought was, he was rather sad she was going to have to change into the baggy robes.

He took a large gulp of coffee, draining the mug, and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t rush, it’s been a slow morning.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, vanishing quickly to change.

Mason leaned his head in his hands and took a deep breath, willing the caffeine to work faster. He’d been at the Order headquarters all night dealing with new information there, had crashed on his sofa for an hour and then come straight here, needing to get even more done before she turned up and no doubt slowed things down. He’d told a tiny white lie just there – it had not been a slow morning; there was a pile of things to do and he really hoped she wasn’t expecting a glamorous first day arresting Death Eaters and duelling in the streets.

“Are you alive in there?” she drawled, smiling slightly as she reappeared, the Muggle clothes now folded neatly into the bag, the Auror robes on in their place.

He looked up and managed a smile back. “Oh, yeah, just tired, you know.” Tired and over worked and now he had to spend all day with her and he wasn’t sure he had the energy.

“Right,” she mumbled, eyes flicking around the room, and Mason cursed under his breath – he really wasn’t trying to be a dick but he knew how he was coming across.

“Uh, so I wasn’t joking about it not being a busy day. We’ve just got a lot of paperwork to get through, if that’s okay?” he said, clearing his throat and handing over the file on the top of his tray.

“Is it just a case of filling out the boxes?” Lyra checked, raising an eyebrow as she opened the folder and scanned the documents inside.

“Yeah, sorry, hope your brain doesn’t go to mush too quickly,” he laughed, managing a grin.

She grinned back and the burst of energy that it gave him was enough to get him up out of his chair and over to the pin board on the far wall. Scanning the photographs and scraps of reports that were already pinned up, he hunched his shoulders up and then tried to relax them again, lancing between the bits and pieces and hoping for a breakthrough.

“Merlin, are you /okay/?” Lyra said quietly from the desk, lowering the file in her hand.

He could feel her eyes on the back of his neck and he turned, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well that’s a big fat lie,” she scoffed. “I can practically see the knots in your back, you’ve been glaring at the board for, ooh, five minutes now, and you look like crap.”

“I look like /crap/?” he snapped.

She raised an eyebrow slowly to match his.

Mason grumbled and looked away. “Okay, you may have a point.”

“Action plan,” she said firmly, getting up and going over to him, “Because I’m pretty sure I can’t have done anything to piss you off, I’m going to assume you’re just burning out. I know the symptoms plenty well enough, so don’t even try and tell me it’s not that.”

Mason opened his mouth to protest but she held up a finger and continued.

“I’m going to get you another coffee after you tell me where the coffee station is, then you’re going to sit and close your eyes – not even sleep if you can’t manage that – for at least half an hour while I get on with the shitty paperwork. Then you’re going to find Dorcas and ask her to work some of the tension out of your back because you’re standing like you’re an eighty year old man.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?”

“Exhausted, aren’t you?” she retorted. “I don’t know what it is you do other than work, but have you maybe considered dropping it?”

Mason laughed breathily. “I wish I could. It’s too important for that.”

Lyra watched him for a moment, mentally filing the comment away because it wasn’t the first time her friends had hinted at doing something ‘more important’. “Well whatever it is, I would rather if it didn’t kill you.”

Mason gave her a look and she just gave him one back.

“Sit back down. Where’s the coffee?” she sighed, grabbing the chipped mug off his desk.

He grumbled under his breath but licked his lips, “Opposite end of the floor, head towards the windows.”

“Hold tight,” she smiled, vanishing quickly.

Mason chuckled slightly and slumped back into his chair to wait for the coffee, trying not to feel guilty.

When she returned his eyes were closed so she set the mug down quietly and eased herself back into her chair, grabbing the file and her quill. She opened the folder and then paused, letting her eyes run over him: the dark circles under his eyes were larger than she’d remembered and she suspected he was running on a very empty tank. Her chest tightened slightly and she bit her lip hard, dragging her eyes away.

“I’m not normally this shit,” Mason mumbled, not moving from his chair and keeping his eyes shut.

“I should hope not, Youngest Auror in Half a Century,” she teased, starting to fill out the forms carefully, making sure the ink didn’t drip.

Mason sniggered slightly and wrapped his hands around the hot cup gratefully. “Sorry I was a dick yesterday.”

“Oh what, the meeting? Forgotten,” she promised, shrugging. “I did think you were being uncharacteristically twattish but I think you just get like that when you’re tired.”

Mason’s heart jumped at the realisation that she had to be paying a decent amount of attention to him to pick up on that. “Oh yeah?” he said casually, trying to play it cool.

“Yeah,” she grinned, “It was the same in training. You’d not be around in the evening doing whatever it is you do, and the next morning you’d be back with a coffee insulting my pull ups.”

“You are spectacularly shit at pull ups,” Mason countered.

Lyra rolled her eyes and laughed. “Go to sleep.”

“Yes, boss,” he smirked, taking a gulp of coffee and then setting the mug back down. “You sure you’re okay with the filing?”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” she said sarcastically. 

Mason wanted to roll his eyes, but they were so very heavy and he really didn’t want to open them. He made a vague noise and nodded, but before he could reply he was already asleep.

Lyra chuckled to herself and shook her head before she focussed her attention on his in-tray, sorting through what she could peacefully, giggling at his slight snoring.

* * *

The knock on the door woke him up again, but Lyra wasn’t too annoyed – he’d been asleep for nearly an hour and she had a feeling that that was more sleep than he’d gotten the night before – so she went to answer it as Mason started groggily behind her and rubbed his eyes.

“Hello?” she smiled, seeing an older Auror that she didn’t recognise holding the thickest file she’d seen yet.

“Hello, Black, is it? Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt,” he smiled, shaking her hand warmly.

“Nice to meet you, is this for Auror McKinnon?”

“I am awake,” Mason said firmly, standing up and raking a hand through his hair, heading over to join her at the door.

“The file you wanted,” Kingsley chuckled at the younger man, “With everything signed off. Once you have your plan, you’re good to go. I made sure it went through myself.”

“You’re a star, Kingsley,” Mason grinned, eyes brightening. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“How what goes?” Lyra asked, looking between the two of them curiously.

“Ah, I take it your intern will be joining you? Should be a good test for her.”

Mason pulled a face. “We’ll see. Thanks again, mate.”

Kingsley winked at Lyra and stepped back. “No problem, thank /you/.”

Lyra watched him head back to his own cubicle and shut the door with a frown. “What’s a good test?”

Mason cursed his colleague under his breath. He’d wanted to keep her out of this mission, even if Moody had said she would be going to every one with him. This one was just… unpredictable and if she got hurt, he knew he’d feel responsible.

“We’ve got some potential Death Eaters under watch. They’ve been missing for a few weeks but this is proof that they’re back in town, and we want to follow them and get enough evidence to make an arrest.”

“And I’ll be coming with you?” she grinned.

He groaned internally – how could he say no now when she looked so thrilled? He reminded himself that she was more than capable, and he couldn’t keep her out of everything. Better to have her do something risky when he was there too rather than in three months when she was on her own.

“I guess so.”

“Can I see the file then?” she beamed, “Do you know how you’re going to find them?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Why are they back in town?” Lyra asked, flicking through the pages of information.

Mason finished the rest of his now cold coffee and beckoned her over the cork board of information he’d tried to look at earlier. A combination of the coffee, the sleep and her infectious energy was making it seem less overwhelming.

He waved his hand at the photos. “We’re pretty sure they’re trying to pick something up from Borgin and Burkes, which obviously is not illegal in and of itself so we have to wait until we have more evidence that it’s something that could be connected to Death Eater activity so we have a reason to make the arrests,” he explained. “And we need to try and identify as many of them there as possible.”

She nodded and bit her lip as she studied the wall too. “And they’ll want to make the transaction in person, to stop it being interrupted, right?”

“Right,” Mason said, folding his arms across his chest, “But we can’t walk up to them and ask them when they’re going, or who is actually going with them.”

“Everyone has to go through the Leaky Cauldron,” Lyra shrugged, “I guess we just camp out in there and wait for them, then follow in disguise?”

Mason blinked. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re exhausted?” she retorted. “And because that’s far too simple for you. I bet you had a really elaborate first idea.”

Mason rolled his eyes because she was absolutely right. “Maybe.”

She looked smug. “We either get some Polyjuice potion and become random Muggles, or if they can’t give us permission for that, we just transfigure our faces until we’re not easily recognisable – perhaps easier for me than for you – and then we go and pretend to have a drink.”

“I like it,” Mason grinned, nodding as she finished her explanation. “You’re good at this.”

She looked smug and curtsied jokingly. “You’re /so/ welcome.”

Laughing, he turned back to the desk and shrugged. “I guess I need to go and speak to Moody about whether we can get our hands on some Polyjuice potion or not.”

“Go for it,” she said, cheeks flushed happily. “Although he’s stingy as anything so good luck with that.”

“You say that like I don’t know it,” Mason smirked, backing away from her, a spring back in his step.

She tipped her head to the side as she watched him, “Make sure you tell him this was all my idea.”

“Oh you can fuck off,” Mason grinned lazily, heading towards Moody’s office with the sound of her laughter following him.

* * *

Moody had, predictably, denied them use of the Polyjuice potion for the mission, saying that Transfiguring themselves and then casting disillusionment charms was more than sufficient without wasting the scarce resources the department had left. Even so, Lyra wasn’t any less optimistic about the mission.

Dorcas was practically green with envy that Lyra was involved in such a big mission so soon (even though Mason had reminded her that she had Order work all the time and this was just more of the same) but she knew that Lyra was thrilled at the prospect, even if the thought of an evening alone with Mason, on official business or not, was unnerving.  
This was mostly due to the fact that as they were posing as a normal couple on a normal date (Lyra had tried to stay casual when he suggested this so as not to go too red in front of him) they would need normal clothes. Which meant Mason would see her in casual clothes again. Which meant she had to look nice, but also be ready for the actual mission.

Mason was meeting her at her flat and then they were apparating to the Leaky Cauldron together so that no one was left standing outside potentially vulnerable, and Dorcas was seated on the sofa, hiding her smirk behind her book when the doorbell went.

“It’s Mason,” he called from the corridor. “What’s the safety question?”

“What part of training did you insult me on yesterday when we were planning?” Lyra smirked through the peephole, trying not to laugh despite the seriousness of the event.

Mason grinned. “Your pull ups, but normally it’s your push ups too.”

“Correct,” she grinned too, opening the door and inviting him inside, her heart pounding in her chest: Mason was in her living room. She knew he’d been there before a few times to see Dorcas, but this felt different.

Dorcas winked at her from her seat and Lyra shot her a glare.

“Are you ready to do this?” Mason smiled, zipping up his jacket and getting his wand out. They were going to perform the changes on each other, with Dorcas there to make sure they really didn’t look like themselves.

Lyra nodded and grabbed her wand off the sofa too. “Let’s go.”

They both set to work with the enchantments, changing the face of the other just enough that it no longer looked like them, even to someone who knew them well. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable, and after a few minutes, they both lowered their wands. Dorcas stood up to inspect the work.

“Mason, I could pass you in the street and not know it was you, nice one, Ly,” she grinned, ruffling Mason’s now dark and much curlier hair. “Lyra, you look… not that different?”

Her hair was a honey blonde and her skin much more tanned, but most of her facial features looked identical to her normal face. “Mason, what the fuck, dude?”

“She looks nothing like herself!” Mason protested with a huff, “Her eyes are completely different!”

Dorcas and Lyra exchanged a look.

“Look, they’re a completely different shape, and they don’t sparkle now!”

Dorcas laughed slightly and hid a smile – how the fuck did he know what her eyes looked like so precisely? She watched Mason for a moment until he began to squirm, the tops of his ears turning red with embarrassment.

Lyra glanced between them and shifted on the spot, smoothing her hair down and laughing awkwardly. “Uh, I think I missed something here but can we just fix this? We need to move.”

Mason’s ears flushed a deeper red and he nodded his now much rounder chin quickly, ignoring Dorcas’ giggles so he could finish changing her appearance.

“Much better,” Dorcas concluded, still laughing but nodding quickly once her friend no longer looked like herself. “Now get a move on!”

Mason pecked Dorcas’ cheek quickly. “I’ll bring her back later, don’t wait up for us.”

Dorcas waved him off easily and pulled Lyra into a hug. “I expect not a single scratch on you or I will kill you both myself! Good luck, babe, you got this!”

Lyra laughed and kissed Dorcas on the cheek too. “I love you, Doe.”

Mason held the front door open and they both headed out, Dorcas locking the door behind them firmly.

The crack of apparition echoed slightly in the London street but wizards had long since learned that muggle assumed it was just a car backfiring, so the pair paid it no mind. For the mission, they were no longer Mason and Lyra, Aurors, they were just a young couple heading to the popular wizarding pub for a drink after a long day at work, so Lyra slipped her arm into Mason’s easily, striking up mindless chatter like she was a born actress. Mason kept half an eye out on the street around them, but there was no sign of anyone until they got inside and found a table in the corner.

“We’ll have to order a drink, even if we can’t drink it,” Mason smiled, easing his jacket off and dropping it over the back of his seat. “What do you want to ‘drink’?”

“Just some pumpkin juice please,” she smiled, sliding him the money across the table, “Even fake me doesn’t drink.”

“You don’t drink?” Mason said, surprised. He straightened up. “But sure, yeah, one pumpkin juice coming up!”

Emboldened by the new appearance and the fact that she, Lyra Black, was out on official Auror business, she leaned over and grinned. “Thanks, babe,” she joked.

The startled look on his face was hilarious, and her grin widened until he clocked on to what she was doing and grinned too, disappearing to get their drinks and leaving her to watch the pub.

Lyra had memorised the faces of all the potential men they were following tonight – there were up to five that the department considered highly suspicious, and any one, or all five, of them, could be involved in the trade tonight in Knockturn Alley. There was nothing out of the ordinary yet though: the Leaky Cauldron wasn’t the most upmarket of the wizarding pubs, but it was certainly one of the most popular, and most of the booths and tables were full with patrons, the brightly coloured robes and hats marking it out as a magical place. The lighting was low, but not too low that it was impossible to make out people’s faces – great for them, but also the reason the disguises had been so important. If they were sat here for too long then they’d have to sneak out and check up on the spells as you could never be sure how long they would last for and it wouldn’t do for them to suddenly return to looking like themselves – especially Mason, who these days was fairly recognisable. 

Mason returned with a goblet of pumpkin juice for her and some sort of beer for himself, which she felt was a bit of a waste seeing as they couldn’t drink, but she supposed it would look odd if they didn’t have some alcohol on the table.

“Any sight of them yet,” Mason muttered, pretending to take a gulp of his drink and letting her scan the room again. 

She shook her head. “How long should we wait here, do you think?”

“As long as we need to. This is the boring part,” he chuckled. “But in the meantime, we can talk about something fun!”

“Let me guess, this won’t be fun at all,” she said dryly.

“Why don’t you drink?” he grinned.

“I was right, not fun,” she huffed, drinking her pumpkin juice seeing as she was actually allowed to – one more perk of her choice. 

Mason nudged her side. “Come on, tell me!”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not some complex thing, you know? I just never liked the taste, and I don’t like the idea of not being in control of my actions! I saw all the bullshit people got up to at school sneaking Firewhiskey into the common rooms and I just didn’t fancy it,” she shrugged.

“But drunken parties are the best when you’re with your mates just messing around! Have you /ever/ been drunk?”

“You really think between my mother, Robert and my cousins at Hogwarts that I was ever allowed enough alcohol to get me drunk?” Lyra laughed. “Never going to happen!”

“Eh, you missed out,” Mason smiled, “I miss school. Gryffindor would hold these massive parties-“

“Oh believe me, I know-“

“And we’d all get smashed and play truth and dare, someone would end up snogging on the sofa, you’d sit and chat shit about each other and then we’d all crawl out of bed and get breakfast the next morning,” he said happily. “We kinda can’t do that anymore, being responsible adults takes too much time.”

“That’s a shame,” she smiled, propping her elbows up on the table and resting her chin in her hands. “I kind of missed out on all of that, alcohol or not. Most of my friends were Avery’s friends, or girls in the same kind of position as me. Their idea of fun was to see which first years they could terrorise that night or sit around the fire place and make fun of people.”

“Thrilling,” Mason snorted, stealing a gulp of her juice and vanishing some of his beer with a flick of his wand so it didn’t look too odd that the level wasn’t going down.

“Why do you think I studied so much? The Library was tonnes better! I used to have a spot in the corner by the Magical Creatures section and no one ever went down there,” she laughed.

Mason blinked. “Wait, that was you? I always saw-“

She kicked him gently under the table and flicked her eyes towards the door, licking her lips. Right after, she winced. “Sorry, was that super obvious? I should’ve let you continue talking,” she said, her voice much lower now. “I think they’ve walked in.”

“It’s okay, we’ll just talk normally for a minute and watch what they do. They’d be idiots not to suspect some Auror interest in their movements. They could be in the pub for a while yet. If they move out, we’ll follow, okay?”

She nodded, smiling at him blithely and trying to relax her shoulders so she looked more like a girl out with her crush and less like a trainee Auror trying not to fuck up a mission.  
Mason mirrored her movements naturally, leaning in and whispering in her ear with a smirk to cover what he was really saying. “You follow my lead, okay? Whatever I say. I mean it, joking over now – you follow my orders. Lean back and act like I’ve said something horrifically inappropriate.”

She didn’t have to pretend; the feeling of his breath on her neck made her shiver and she flushed anyway, the colour showing up far less on her now tanned skin as she nodded, laughing.

“You’re good at this,” Mason grinned, running a hand through his hair. “A natural actress.”

“I’ve spent eighteen years acting,” she smiled, tilting her head to the side and letting her hair fall back from her neck. “Pretending to be on a date is the easiest thing I’ve done so far.”

“What else have you had to do?” Mason said, an eyebrow quirking up as he kept his attention on the men at the bar easily. 

“That’s not a question for right now,” she said easily, not being able to manage a smile but covering her mouth with her goblet so he didn’t notice.

He furrowed his brow slightly but nodded, letting it go. They were hardly in a position for a deep talk.

“Tell me something about you!” she smiled, “I feel like you know way too much about my personal life and I know nothing about yours!”

Mason laughed slightly and shrugged draping his arm around her shoulder to half cover her from view as the tallest man turned to survey the room. The less attention they paid to her, the better; in his opinion she looked far less beautiful with her features tampered with, but even the transfigurations couldn’t quite mask that magnetic quality about her and it was both common sense and also jealousy that made him hide her as best he could. The last thing they needed was someone approaching them and getting a proper look at either of their faces. Lyra realised her behaviour was less pretending to be on a date and more just forgetting that /he/ was acting and that they weren’t /actually/ on a date, because the weight of his arm over her shoulder was making her heart beat far faster than was respectable.

“Are you nervous?”

“I’m fine,” she promised, “Go on!”

“I dunno what there is to say,” he snorted. “What do you want to know? You know about my siblings and you’ve survived meeting Marlene!”

“Marlene is lovely,” Lyra said sincerely, “But that’s not about you! What was your favourite subject at school? Did you have any pets as a kid? Favourite food?”

“Defence Against the Dark Arts, cliché I know but it’s true. Not as a little kid, but we got a puppy for Mark about a year ago, and now Marlo is as much a part of the family as any of us. My favourite food is lasagne, but only the way my mum makes it,” he smiled softly.

Lyra nearly forgot that they had a job to do, but she realised with a jolt that the men had moved away from the bar, leaving the empty glasses behind them for Tom, the bartender, to clear up.

“Mason,” she whispered, “They’re heading out.”

Mason’s body tensed up and he nodded his acknowledgement. “Towards the alleyway?”

She let her gaze swing around the pub so she wasn’t just staring at them. “Uhuh. Out the back door in just a few moments.” 

“Okay, we need to go pretty quickly. Grab your jacket,” he smiled calmly, reaching into his own pocket and pulling out a packet of cigarettes to use as a cover for them suddenly heading out to the back yard too.

Lyra slipped her coat and smiled at him happily as he slung his leather jacket on and took her hand, nodding at the bartender lazily as he laced his fingers through hers, guiding her through the barstools and crowded tables, twirling a cigarette in his other hand so it was clear to anyone looking what their plan was. She was practically holding her breath at this point, mentally cataloguing spells and exit routes just in case, reassured by feel of her wand strapped to her waist. 

Holding the door open for her, Mason smiled and glanced around the area just in case, putting the cigarette away quickly once they were alone and creeping towards the alleyway with the gateway into Diagon Alley. There was no tell-tale sound of bricks scraping against bricks, but they also couldn’t hear anything to say where exactly the Death Eaters were either. Nervous but refusing to admit it, Lyra stuck close behind Mason, casting a non-verbal spell at his nod to enhance their hearing for a few minutes.

Still nothing.

“We’ll head towards the gateway, okay?” Mason breathed, reaching for his wand.

“Who’s there?” a voice hissed, only audible because of the spell. “Find them, kill them if it’s anyone you don’t recognise.”

There was the sudden sound of footsteps approaching and Lyra pushed all the air in her lungs out in fear, the cold winter air steaming in front of her as she yanked Mason backwards; there were five of them and only her and Mason, no matter how well trained they were, they couldn’t fight their way out of this one and continue the mission.

“Lyra, what-“

“Trust me,” she hissed frantically, pushing him against the wall by the door and kissing him firmly, her hand closing over his wand hand to stop him raising it in defence just as a figure appeared around the corner of the alleyway. 

Floored, Mason automatically lifted his other hand to cup her cheek, tangling it in her unfamiliar blonde hair and wrapping his other arm around her, pressing her against him. The heat of his lips was searing against the cold and she shivered, managing to focus enough to slip her wand out of its holder and gripping it, hiding it between them by resting her hand on his chest. Mason, suddenly realising where they were and what they were doing, flipped them over so her back dug into the brick, hiding all of her behind him; he kissed her again, unable to stop himself and also realising what she had done – the cover was genius, her logic flawless, and despite the danger he couldn’t believe he was actually kissing her. And more importantly, disguise or not, she was kissing him back. It didn’t matter that she didn’t look like herself, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t her usual dark messy waves he was running his fingers through, it didn’t matter that the cheekbones he was brushing with his thumb weren’t as sharp, it was still her and it was still her heart rate racing in time with his. She kissed him like her life depended on it, which he supposed it yet could, running her hands down his chest and tugging him closer with his jacket, unable to hear anything over the thundering in her ears.

“Nah, it’s just the kids from the pub.”

“Forget it, they’ve got no idea what’s going on, they’re practically undressing each other out here!”

There was a rough laugh from further away.

Lyra pulled away slightly from Mason and stared up at him from under her eyelashes, her chest heaving. He didn’t move, knowing full well that they weren’t in the clear yet, and he wasn’t sure if he could move anyway: his gaze was still on her lips, which were still very much her own – he hadn’t felt brave enough to admit earlier that to him she still looked like herself because he knew the shape of her lips, of her whole face, well enough to pick her out anywhere – and which were now looking rather swollen. She licked her lips nervously and it took all of his self-control to remember that they had a job to do and not push her up against the wall again.

The voices of the Death Eaters faded and was replaced by the sound of the door to the shopping street opening.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, shaking slightly, “Sorry, I didn’t think, I just didn’t know if we could fight them off, and now we can continue the mission, and-“

“Don’t apologise,” he said, his breathing ragged and his voice hoarse. “No, that was… very smart. Yeah.”

“Okay,” she said weakly, shifting slightly to peer over his shoulder. “We… we should follow them, right?”

“Shit. Yeah, right,” Mason said, letting his hands drop from her cheeks and clearing his throat hastily. “Let’s move.”

“Mason, really, I know that was very out of the blue, if I fucked up you can-“

“Afterwards, Lyra,” he said with a thin smile, trying to compose himself as he stepped backwards and turned to face the alleyway the men had vanished down.

She nodded and tugged on the end of her hair awkwardly, taking a deep breath in and letting the cold air drag her focus back to the task at hand.

“Fun fact,” Mason said carefully, taking a breath to compose himself as they slipped down the alleyway, “You don’t need to use the gateway, the wall is pretty easily climbable, wizards are just dramatic.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Much quieter.”

“Precisely,” he said, quickly levitating himself up to the top of the wall and then casting the disillusionment charms that would keep them hidden from everyone – including each other. “Stick close or you’ll lose me.”

She nodded and then realised that he could no longer see her so she just lifted herself up and over the wall after him, feeling around until she caught the edge of his jacket. “Okay, ready.”

He led the way towards Knockturn Alley, keeping their pace slow so the footsteps weren’t audible. They had a Muggle camera to actually get the evidence they needed and Lyra had a potentially useful spell up her sleeve in case the suspects were gone by the time they arrived.

Mason stopped in his tracks as they neared the entrance to the side street, the gloomy shadows seeming to engulf even the light from the gas lamps overhead. “Ready? If anything goes wrong, we apparate out, okay? Straight home,” he breathed.

“Understood,” she replied just as cautiously, her wand ready. They’d left the wands out of the invisibility charm so they could keep track of each other now it was more dangerous without holding onto each other and Mason shifted on the spot, his wand bobbing ahead of him.

Creeping down the alley, Lyra found herself holding her breath as the sound of rough and hurried voices drifted into hearing. 

“Borgin, do you have it or not?”

“I have it, of course, but that does not mean it is yours by default, sir. I am no fool, and regardless of my inclinations in this /dispute/ with the Ministry, I tread the lines of the law carefully. This would tip me far too far into one camp.”

There was an angry growl and the cloaked figure that Lyra assumed was Borgin took a step backwards onto the step of his shop.

Abandoning the secrecy they had been keeping so far, the Death Eater pushed his hood down and jabbed his wand into the shopowner’s chest. “You will hand it over!”

“Rookwood,” Lyra breathed. That was the first of their suspects confirmed. Next to her, Mason muttered a spell and then pulled the camera out, having masked the flash and the noise, raising it to take the photo. It was pretty dark, the photograph would be grainy, but it would be enough to secure an arrest warrant – the Aurors didn’t need much these days when they were so desperate to make arrests.

Another man stepped forwards and Lyra recognised the set of his jaw and his nose before he even removed his hood. 

“Avery Senior,” she breathed in Mason’s ear. 

He hadn’t been on their list of suspects but it was still a name and a face, and they would take anything.

“I recognise her too,” she added, nudging his camera around to the woman at the edge of the group, “That’s Snyde’s wife, I can’t remember her name. Her husband won’t be far away, he never lets her out of his sight.”

Mason privately thought it was very useful having an Auror who knew all these names and faces instinctively through years of dinner parties with them, but he would never say it to Lyra in case she was offended at the insinuation of closeness to the Death Eaters. He kept snapping photos, taking as many as he could without leaving their cover behind the crates. The conversation was now solely threats against Mr Borgin and his shop, and the man seemed to realise that he would end up missing or dead if he continued to protest. Mason was fairly impressed he’d put up even this much of a fight, but the man disappeared into the grimy store, returning with a velvet scroll bag. He handed it over with a trembling hand and then wrapped his robes tightly around himself.

“What is that?” Lyra hissed. None of their information said anything about what it was the Death Eaters wanted.

Mason shook his head slowly. He didn’t know.

“Now that had better be everything,” Borgin said sharply, glancing around the circle of Death Eaters with a plainly terrified expression. “I have nothing more that your master wants.”  
“Not yet you don’t,” Avery grinned, baring his teeth slightly. “We shall let you know if he requires any more assistance.”

“Of course, of course,” Borgin murmured, nodding sharply. “I understand. You would be wise to advise him of what the scroll can do…”

“The Dark Lord knows and is not scared of your /ancient curses/,” he sneered.

Borgin looked sceptical but said nothing else, bowing slightly.

“We should leave, there were too many people in the Leaky Cauldron and we’ve lingered here too long.”

The group seemed to agree, and pulled hoods back up, fastened robes, Avery still watching the man carefully as Borgin retreated into the relative safety of his shop, the sound of the locks and bolts sliding shut seeming to echo down the cramped street.

Mason and Lyra instinctively slid back against the wall. Their job was done, they didn’t need to engage with the Death Eaters and they needed to wait until they were gone before the pair could head back to the Leaky Cauldron themselves. Like before, Mason positioned himself between the cloaked figures passing them and Lyra; feeling her stiffen as Avery Senior moved past their hiding place, like the memory of his son was there too, Mason fumbled for her hand and gave it a sharp squeeze, which he felt her return. The contact was still heated, as if reminding them both of what they’d been doing previously, but the genuine concern and desire to comfort was obvious in the gesture and she appreciated it immensely.  
They stayed silent and unmoving like that for several minutes until the hushed voices had long since faded and there was no sound except for the creaking of the shop signs overhead.  
Mason ended their disillusionment spells, securing the camera in his pocket and turning to face her, dropping her hand quickly once they could see each other again; holding her hand when they weren’t invisible felt far too intimate.

“You okay?” he smiled, standing up and straightening his back.

“More than,” she promised, her cheeks flushing again. The time they’d spent hiding and watching had meant the transfigurations they’d done earlier had mostly worn off with the exception of their hair colour, the easiest thing to change with a spell and so the longest lasting, and she was forcibly reminded of everything that had happened.

Mason caught her eye and went pink too, turning purposefully to look up and down the alley. “I think we’re safe to head back. I’ll take the camera back to the Department early tomorrow and get the photographs developed, we’ve got a guy, Jon, who specialised in Muggle tech to do that,” he explained, rambling to avoid having to discuss anything else. “I’ll make sure you’re back at yours first though.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I think for a first mission we did really well!”

“Moody will be very impressed,” Mason agreed, cracking his knuckles and rolling out the last of the tightness in his shoulders. “Three confirmed, one pretty much guaranteed and a photograph of the last one that we should be able to enhance slightly and work it out. Then we’ll get a team together to actually arrest them if we can. You should be proud, the plan worked beautifully.”

Apart from the bit where she kissed him, though Mason couldn’t say he hadn’t liked it.

“Why thank you,” Lyra grinned, tucking her still blonde hair behind her ears. “Do you reckon it’s safe to head back?”

“Safer than standing in the middle of Knockturn Alley, yes,” Mason chuckled, zipping up his jacket and picking a path back out from the boxes and heading for the exit, his wand still out just in case.

Lyra followed quietly, watching the back of his neck where the dirty blonde colour was creeping back in, trying not to think too hard about the feeling of him pressing her against the wall. She licked her lips and forced herself to focus on making as little sound as possible so no one, not just the Death Eaters, knew they were there. There were plenty of people who privately agreed with the Death Eaters even if they’d never join them, and Aurors had to be careful especially in a seedy street like this one – their authority wasn’t as absolute as it had once been.

Once they were back, this time going through the brick gateway, they headed straight through the pub, not bothering to keep up the disguise. The Leaky Cauldron was safe enough and it had been a long night – they both just wanted to get home – but Mason still glanced around for any last signs of the group.

“I’ll apparate back with you, just so Dorcas can’t have a go at me for leaving you,” Mason grinned, pausing once they were back on the Muggle street.

“She really would have a fit,” Lyra agreed, laughing now the last of her fear was leaking away. Not that she had ever been /that/ scared: she had been right next to Mason the whole night and it was hard to feel overwhelmed with his presence nearby.

“I’ll be a good mentor and drop you off,” Mason teased, although the word mentor stuck in his throat – they’d been kissing less than two hours ago.

Lyra fluttered her eyelashes and pretended to swoon. “Take me home then.”

He laughed and caught her arm before they both disapparated back to her flat.

Dorcas had evidently been waiting for the noise despite their instructions not to wait up, because the door was already open when Lyra and Mason made it up the stairs to the flat.  
“Are you both okay?” Dorcas gushed, flinging her arms around them both.

“We’re completely fine, Doe, promise! No scratches as agreed,” Mason laughed, hugging her back. “I return your flatmate in one piece.”

“How did it go?” Dorcas asked, glancing at Lyra.

“We got all but one person confirmed and the photos look promising, so I’d say a success,” Lyra laughed.

Mason nodded. “Definitely. She’s a natural!”

Lyra blushed and dumped her jacket on the sofa. “Thanks.”

Dorcas winked at Mason and went to lock the door but he stopped her.

“I can’t stay, I need to get some sleep or someone will tell me off in the morning,” he smirked, glancing across at Lyra who just rolled her eyes. “I’ll catch up with you soon,” he promised, kissing the top of Dorcas’ head.

“You’d better,” she grinned, punching his shoulder jokingly. “See you soon.”

Lyra felt his eyes burning into the back of her head but he grinned at Dorcas and then left quietly, leaving the two girls in the living room.

“So, tell me everything, I need to-“

“We kissed,” Lyra blurted out, biting her lip as she looked across at Dorcas. “I kissed him.”

“W-w… WHAT!”

Lyra laughed hysterically. “We were posing as a couple, and the Death Eaters came back round the corner so I kissed him to hide us and it worked, they just thought we really were a couple on a date, it was just a cover, but it was /incredible/ and now I’m pretty sure he hates me, I just grabbed him and did it and…”

“Oh. My. God,” Dorcas breathed, face splitting into a massive smile. “Was it good? Did you enjoy it?”

Lyra flushed the darkest red Dorcas had ever seen her go. “I spent far too much of the mission thinking about it, if that answers your question.”

“Oh my /God/ I’m so excited, did he say anything?!”

“Nothing! Nothing about it at all, he just said he was glad it worked to distract them from checking who we were!”

Dorcas cursed. “I hate that man, I really do.”

“I /kissed/ him!”

“And you liked it! And I know for a fact he did, I knew there was something different about him when you guys came in!” Dorcas crowed.

Lyra buried her face in the sofa cushions and screamed slightly. “How am I supposed to go in tomorrow and sit next to him and say /nothing/?!”

“I don’t know, honey, but we’re going to make you look incredible.”

“That’s not an answer for everything!” Lyra huffed, rolling onto her back and watching her friend pace the room.

“It’s /my/ answer for everything,” Dorcas smirked.

* * *

Mason kicked his shoes off, dumped his jacket and continued to strip down on his way to his bedroom, leaving the clothes on the floor where he dropped them. Flopping face first onto the duvet, he grabbed the covers and let out a yell, muffed by the pillow. Despite the high stakes mission, despite the success of it, despite the fact that they had the evidence for four, potentially five arrests – an unprecedented amount – he couldn’t stop thinking about /her/. Her lips, her hands on his chest, her little gasp of surprise when he’d turned them around (to protect her, only to protect her), her heartbeat spiking. He yelled again and then rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling, breathing heavily.

Fuck.


	9. November 1980

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter is a heavy one. I want to leave some particular trigger warnings - if any of them bother you, you can skip at the line "Mason and Sirius both appeared inside Headquarters" right to the end and I'll leave a quick chapter summary there so you can keep up! Trigger warnings for: mentions of PTSD and the effects of it, general life and death situations, death of family/young children, referenced child abuse and general descriptions of gore. That makes it sound very dramatic but I just want to make sure! Take care of yourselves <3

_18th November 1980_

Lyra exited the rickety lift on the second floor of the Ministry the next morning feeling apprehensive. Without the adrenaline of the mission and after a night to sleep on it, she had no idea what had possessed her to _kiss_ Mason last night, and she was dreading having to see him and explain herself. Dorcas had tried to push her to tell Mason how she felt, but considering everything, Lyra thought that was a recipe for disaster – she really didn’t want to get kicked out the programme or even just moved to work with different Auror and have people find out why.

The office door was ajar, so she crept over and pushed the door open slightly, poking her head round it and bracing herself for embarrassment.

Mason wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at an Auror she didn’t recognise but who was clearly friendly with him as he was leaning right over the desk holding a packet of photos, a wide grin on his face.

“You know I’d prioritise anything you sent to me, McKinnon,” the guy teased.

Mason seemed far more relaxed with the comment than Lyra would’ve thought and so she cleared her throat quickly, shutting the door behind her, feeling like she was interrupting something she shouldn’t.

The photograph guy jumped back, his cheeks going as red as Lyra’s were, and Mason sat more upright in his chair, glancing pointedly out of the window. “Oh, hi, you must be Lyra?”

She nodded and managed a smile even if she was horrifically confused. “Yeah, that’s me. Sorry, I don’t know you?”

“Oh, I’m Jonathan! Jon Abbott,” he smiled, “I’m responsible for all the Muggle tech the office uses, came by to drop off the photographs you guys got last night!”

Lyra dropped her bag by her chair and extended her hand out for him to shake. “Nice to meet you,” she said politely, “Thank you for the photos.”

Jon glanced back at Mason and nodded quickly. “Right, yes, no problem! Any time! I should probably go. Good luck with catching them!”

Jon vanished immediately, shutting the door to the office loudly.

Lyra turned to Mason and slowly raised an eyebrow, her mind whirring. “Was he flirting with you?”

“No!” Mason muttered.

“Right, because it looked like he was to me,” she shrugged, sitting down and fiddling with the wallet of photos. “Which, you know, is okay, just… confusing. Why would he flirt with you, I didn’t think you were…”

“Merlin’s balls this is a fun conversation,” Mason said through his teeth, taking a gulp of water from his bottle and leaning back. “Really enjoying this at nine in the morning.”

Lyra dropped her eyes to her lap. “Sorry, we’ll just… leave it, it’s okay.”

“No, no, it’s not a big deal, it’s just – awkward. To explain to you, because I... Never mind. I’m into guys and girls, that’s all.”

She looked back up quickly. “You – you can do that? Like both of them?”

Mason laughed automatically, watching her too. “Yeah?”

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted, feeling foolish.

He shrugged casually. “I can’t say I thought the Black family sex-ed would be particularly inclusive.”

“I knew gay people existed,” she protested weakly, although she had only known they existed in the context of ‘don’t be one of them, you must continue the family line’.

Mason laughed again. “Good, that’s a strong start.”

“Don’t tease me!”

“It’s so easy though,” he grinned, shaking his head, “I’m sorry.”

“_Anyway_,” she said firmly, flicking through the photos for something to do with her hands. Her choice seemed easy now. “I think he was flirting with you and I think you should ask him out.”

“Who – Jon?” Mason blinked, something settling uncomfortably in his stomach. The kiss mustn’t have meant anything then.

“Yes, Jon,” she shrugged, “He’s cute, he’s into you, Marlene tells me you don’t get out enough, he’d understand the work commitments too, working in the department as well. Seems ideal.”

Why was she doing this? Why was she suggesting this? Was that _hurt_ in his eyes or was she just projecting her own feelings onto him?

“You think I should ask Jonathan out on a date?” Mason said slowly.

No. “Yes!”

Mason licked his lips and leaned back in his chair. “Sure. I’ll go and find him later. But if it goes wrong, it’s your fault,” he teased weakly.

She managed a laugh and handed the photos over to him. “Deal. Should we take a look at these now?”

Mason’s fingers brushed hers as he took the packet from her and the distance between them that last night hadn’t existed now felt impossible to cross. “We should, yeah.”

He took a deep breath and started to lay the photos out on their desk, burying his questions deep deep down.

* * *

When they took a break for lunch, they’d examined all the photos carefully and were setting about organising the arrest warrants to send to the team who would actually find the Death Eaters, as Moody had decided they’d done enough on this case. It was safer to split it up, to avoid making one single Auror the target of a revenge campaign.

Lyra went to find Dorcas who had settled into a cubicle next to Frank, and the two of them went to find somewhere quieter to eat.

“So, what did you say to him?” Dorcas grinned, her voice hushed.

Lyra shook her head. “It’s not happening. Do you know Jon Abbott?”

“Uhhh, not really, why?”

“Well I arrived in Mason’s office to him flirting _hard_ with Mason under the pretence of ‘just dropping off the photos’, which I know isn’t protocol, the Auror is supposed to pick them up from him,” she started, trying and failing to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “So I suggested that maybe Mason should ask him out.”

“What the FUCK,” Dorcas hissed, “Why would you do that?”

“Mason is into guys and girls,” Lyra said defensively, “I found that out! He can date Jon if he wants to.”

“That’s _not_ what I meant! Why would you tell him to ASK SOMEONE ELSE OUT!” Dorcas screeched, dropping her sandwich to brandish her arms around.

Lyra looked sheepish. “I can’t tell him how I feel, Doe!”

“Well _now_ you can’t,” Dorcas sniffed, “You’re going to be the death of me! He’ll not say anything about you now because he’ll think you’re not into him!”

“I shouldn’t be into him,” Lyra countered.

“You’re insane, Ly, why on earth would you ruin any chances you have at all?!”

Lyra sniffed in annoyance. “He was hardly about to propose to me, it’s not a big deal!”

“You’re insane,” Dorcas repeated. “Actually insane.”

“It’s too late now,” Lyra shrugged. “It’s done.”

“I’m going to murder you while you sleep,” Dorcas muttered as she picked her sandwich back up.

Lyra rolled her eyes but she took a deep breath as she looked down at her own lunch. Maybe it was insane, maybe she had ruined her chances, but she was scared and she would rather push Mason towards someone else than _ever_ admit to him how she felt.

* * *

_21st November 1980_

He shouldn’t have done this – his mum would definitely have some words to say about it. It felt wrong, somehow, to lead Jon along when Mason knew that he wasn’t interested in the guy. Okay, that wasn’t quite true: they got along, he was attractive, funny, there was definitely _something_ there but it was never going to happen with _her_ in the picture.

Even thinking about her right now felt wrong, like he was deceiving Jonathan (which in some senses, he was – who went on a date with someone you knew you wouldn’t want to see again?), but it would also feel wrong to deliberately not think about her either. Had she _really_ felt nothing after their kiss? Did she really want him dating other people? Mason was hoping not.

They weren’t doing anything particularly formal for the date, they were both far too busy for that, but they’d agreed to dinner at Mason’s place and so he’d been cooking all evening and was grateful when the doorbell rang because it meant he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts.

“Security question coming up,” he warned, peering through the peephole. Last year, the Ministry had encouraged everyone to start asking these sorts of questions to prevent any unwanted visitors disguised as someone you were expecting, but it always felt awkward. “What colour is my coffee mug?”

“Orange, and in dire need of a wash,” Jon joked, “I come bearing cake!”

Mason laughed and opened the door. “Don’t knock the mug, it just gets a lot of use, that’s all!”

“I’m not knocking it, just saying you should bring it back and give it a wash once in a while,” he grinned. “Hi, though,” he added once he was inside.

“Hi,” Mason smiled, a tad awkwardly. He’d have felt awkward even without the invisible third party involved, but that really wasn’t helping and so he did his best to hide it. “Uh, do you want a drink? I can do alcoholic, soft, hot.”

“This sounds super lame, but a cup of tea would be ace,” Jon laughed. “I’ve not had mine yet today and I’m having withdrawal symptoms.”

Mason snorted and went to put the kettle on. He couldn’t yet tell whether the weirdness of the situation was just a first date issue – he’d not been on one for ages thanks to work and the Order – or just a sign that this wasn’t going to work.

“So, I think we should absolutely ban all talk of work,” Jon called from where he was carefully extracting the cake tin from his bag. “It’s boring and, let’s be real, we’ll both already know any of the stuff we mention.”

“You might be right,” Mason laughed, shrugging as he stirred the tea. “And contrary to popular belief, I actually don’t eat sleep breathe work.”

Jonathan pretended to do a double take, throwing his hands up. “You, the one and only Mason McKinnon, do things other than work?”

“I know, I know,” Mason sighed, “Moody tries his best to force me into a one-track mind but I’ve toiled for years and I finally did it, I have a hobby again.”

“Please tell me your hobby is something ridiculously embarrassing,” Jon breathed, clasping his hands together. “Let me guess?”

“It’s not that embarrassing, but you can definitely guess,” Mason grinned, handing over the cup of tea and then leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

“Okay,” Jon said thoughtfully, glancing around the room for inspiration or a clue. “Do you… knit?”

“No, but my mum is getting into it,” Mason smirked. “She’s awful.”

“Cute, are you going to turn up in knitted jumpers?”

“Maybe, so I don’t hurt her feelings.”

“I’d pay good money to see you in a bad knitted jumper,” Jon grinned, scratching the back of his neck, “Okay, do you… roller skate?”

“No but I kind of want to learn, that or ice skating,” Mason sniggered.

“I’m pretty good, I could take you some time! What about… poetry?”

“Eh, getting warmer, but you’re still not right, you’re thinking far more embarrassing than what this actually is!”

“Useless – get a more embarrassing hobby then, McKinnon! What is it?” Jon huffed, sipping his tea and pouting slightly.

Mason opened his mouth to reply and was interrupted by a horrific screech and a dull thud. He whirled around and drew his wand only to see an owl hopping frantically on the windowsill. He recognised the bird as the one normally kept at Order headquarters and swore loudly. Lurching forwards, he opened the window and grabbed the hastily rolled letter from the bird’s leg.

_Mason,_

_Fastest way to get you all. Collect Sirius, get to HQ. Surprise attack on a wizard town, be ready to fight._

_\- James_

“Shit. Shit shit shit _shit_ SHIT!” Mason yelled burning the note immediately and sending the owl back out the window, slamming the pane shut behind him. “I need to go.”

“What the fuck?” Jon snorted, confused but not yet aware anything was actually wrong.

“There’s been an attack,” he said sharply, grabbing his jacket. “I need to go. I’m really sorry, I’m needed right this second.”

“That wasn’t Moody’s o-“

“Jon, I’m sorry, this is awful timing,” Mason muttered, “Uh, don’t rush yourself out, stay, whatever, the door locks automatically. I’ll see you at work?”

“Uh, yeah, right, cool?”

Mason nodded sharply and then barrelled out of the flat, feeling guilty that he was grateful for the reprieve.

* * *

“SIRIUS!”

The pounding on the door and the yell startled her enough that the tea she’d just made slopped over the edges of the mug as she jumped, and Lyra yelped as the hot liquid scalded her hands, the book only just escaping damage too.

“SIRIUS? OPEN UP!”

Recognising Mason’s voice but not the panicked edge to it, Lyra threw the hardback down on the cushions, dumped her mug on the coffee table and darted over to the door. Protocol said she should ask a security question but the worry in his voice overrode her cautiousness and she yanked the chain back, stepping back to let him into the flat, her dark eyes wide.

“Si-oh, it’s you,” he said, doing a double take. “Is – is Sirius in?”

“Y-yes, I’ll get him now, what’s wrong?” she frowned, turning and slipping through to find Sirius in his room.

Mason, thrown off kilter by her presence, paused to lick his lips, glancing around wildly. The dichotomy of seeing both Jon and Lyra within a minute of each other in entirely different scenarios was messing with him, and he shook his head firmly to rid himself of the odd feeling.

“There’s been an attack, a wizarding village. We’re needed right away.”

Lyra’s eyes widened again and she turned back to him. “An attack?”

They happened fairly frequently these days, and she’d not been involved in one yet with the Aurors but it was only a matter of time.

“Wait, why do you need Sirius then?” she frowned. “He’s not an Auror.”

Mason blinked, scrambling for something to say – of course she didn’t know why he needed Sirius and not her.

“Are you not wearing trousers?” he croaked, his brain focussing in on the singularly least relevant thing about this situation.

Lyra glanced down sharply and then flushed a deep red, yanking the borrowed top down, the large neckline slipping down her shoulder which, Mason cursed vaguely, really did not help matters.

“Kind of not important, Mason?” she muttered, as Sirius appeared in the doorway.

“An attack?” her brother said sharply, snatching his wand up from the dresser.

Mason nodded. “We’re needed, as soon as we can get there.”

Sirius glanced at Lyra, who was now looking backwards and forwards between them, her brows furrowed slightly which Sirius knew full well meant something was being calculated and meticulously pieced together.

“We should go,” he said hastily, heading past his little sister towards the door.

“I can help,” she said, darting forwards, “I _want_ to help!”

“You _need_ to put trousers on,” Mason said, voice tight as he glanced at the ceiling desperately. She was going to work out about the Order sooner rather than later but it shouldn’t be like this, it shouldn’t be by chance and putting together the clues, she should be told. Why on Earth was she even here?!

“Sirius, what’s going _on_?” she asked, her tone sharper now.

“No time, Ly, just stay here, promise me you won’t try to follow?”

She made no such promise, her mouth pressed together in a hard line, hurt.

“Sirius, we have to go now,” Mason said urgently, pulling his eyes away from Lyra’s. Her stormy expression was one that he would love to study, but not right now.

The elder Black nodded sharply and headed out the door, Mason quickly following, throwing an apologetic glance over his shoulder. The pair vanished down the staircase out of sight of the other front doors and the familiar crack echoed up the stairwell as Lyra knew they’d vanished to wherever it was they needed so badly to be. The front door was still open, her wand hanging limply in her hand.

* * *

Mason and Sirius both appeared inside Headquarters, finding Moody standing in front of them, clearly waiting for them.

“No time to explain, I’ll apparate you both to the village,” he said sharply, and doing just that.

The quick turn around on the magical transportation made Mason’s stomach lurch but he swallowed hard and scanned their surroundings.

“Moody, you made it back,” a familiar voice said, hurrying over. “Thank you so much, again, I know-“

“We’re not finished yet, boy,” Alastor cut him off and Mason did a double take upon seeing Edgar Bones standing in front of them, wand in hand, his blonde hair filled with dust and wildly messy.

“McKinnon?”

“Who did you think I was going to get?” Moody snorted, marching back out into the street, “Stop gawping, get a fucking move on.”

Sirius ran after Moody immediately, but Mason and Edgar stayed still for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say.

“McKinnon, I know this is awk-“

“Don’t,” Mason said quickly, shaking his head. “We’re here to help. Save this for afterwards.”

Edgar hesitated and then nodded sharply, wheeling around to face the village, black billowing smoke drifting over the red rooftops. He apparated further down the road with a crack, Mason following behind. There was a time and a place for their confrontation and now wasn’t it, they both knew that.

The small village was mostly inhabited by wizards with a handful of Muggle homes that the members of the Order seemed to be concentrating on, but Edgar continued through the streets, dodging spells that came his way with a single-minded determination and ignoring any and all organisation by the Order of the Phoenix.

“Bones, where are you _going_?!”

“Who do you think raised the alarm?” Edgar yelled, speeding up into a run as they spotted a dark figure sweeping down a path to the last house on the street. “This is my home!”

Mason’s face paled and he forced himself into a sprint to keep up with the other man who let out a strangled cry as the door to the house was blasted off its hinges violently, the splinters of wood spraying into the hallway as the Death Eater continued inside.

“MUM!” Edgar screamed, the sound slivering down Mason’s spine and making his blood run cold.

A sudden green glow lit up the front window as Edgar barrelled up the path, Mason on his heels.

“MUM, DAD!” Edgar screamed again, his voice cracking. The Death Eater rounded on them as they entered the small house, and Edgar lunged for the wand clutched in the gloved hand. Reacting faster than he had anticipated, the masked figure spun away from his reach, firing again towards them, the beam of deadly green light scraping past Edgar as Mason yanked him to the side instinctively. The Death Eater glanced behind at the crumpled body of a woman, her flowery dress torn at the seam where she’d fallen and they laughed, the sound echoing oddly from behind the metal mask; their wand raised, they yelled _bombarda_ and threw their arm around in a wide circle, the ceiling splitting and cracking, the old beams holding the cottage together shattering loudly enough to mask the noise of the figure vanishing, twisting away into nothingness now the wards on the house had broken.

Edgar wrested himself free of Mason’s grip and scrambled desperately towards the stairs even as the ceiling began to groan, dust raining down around them making the angry tear tracks down his cheeks even more noticeable.

“LUCY!” he croaked, feeling the house begin to shudder – the Death Eater had clearly continued the attack from outside.

“Edgar,” Mason warned, dragging his eyes away from the body of Edgar’s mother and following him up the stairs.

“ED?” a woman upstairs screamed, and the sound of children crying followed the scream, only forcing Edgar to climb the steep stairs faster, trying to outrun the cracking plaster.

“Ed this isn’t safe,” Mason coughed, covering his face with his hands although he continued to follow. “How many of them are up here?!”

“My sister, her two kids, I don’t know where my dad is,” Edgar sobbed, pausing to clear his throat, the debris falling freely now.

It was a good thing he paused – the wall of one of the bedrooms split with a juddering motion, the bricks spilling down onto the floor.

“EDDIE, PLEASE,” Lucy sobbed, the wailing of the children louder now there was less between them. “My wand, my wand is broken, I can’t move!”

Mason scrambled over the bricks as another explosion rocked the side of the cottage, light beginning to show through the cracks. One of the children suddenly stopped crying. Lucy screamed louder and louder, her voice breaking with the horror.

Edgar was doubled over at the top of the stairs, unable to breathe or move or do anything as the floor trembled beneath his feet. Desperate, Mason started trying to levitate the rubble away from where there were still noises, but more was falling faster than he could move it and Lucy’s screams were weak and breathless, the remaining baby’s crying muffled as she wrapped her arms around it tightly, trying to shield it.

Another explosion blasted the rest of the roof straight off the house and the blinding sunlight streamed in, the remaining wall of the upstairs teetering dangerously.

Mason looked up, eyes wide as he realised he was now directly in the path of it with no free path out.

“McKinnon,” Edgar gasped, lunging forwards and grabbing a hold of his hand, pulling him backwards over the piles of bricks and beams and mortar. Squeezing his eyes shut, Edgar focussed on the green grass of the garden and apparated them away as the last of his energy crumbled to nothing.

Mason scrambled to his feet and tried to move towards what was left of the house but Edgar caught his arm, turned and threw up onto the grass, sob wracking his body as he fell to his knees.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, gripping Mason’s arm to tightly that he had no choice but to prise Edgar’s fingers off him for fear of being hurt. “I’m so so sorry, I left you, I couldn’t move, I’m sorry, oh _God_, Luce, I’m sorry.”

Crying himself, Mason dropped down next to him and wrapped his arms around the man, holding him tightly as he continued to scream, his grief carrying over the sounds of the house collapsing in on itself, the eerie green of the Dark Mark polluting the air above where the bricks now piled up.

Mason looked up and realised with another punch to the gut that he knew where Edgar’s father was: he had tried to reach the house and had met the same fate as his wife before he could make it there, his arm stretched out in front of him on the path just metres away from the door. Not ready to look back at the house, knowing there were four more bodies inside, Mason continued to stare down the street where the rest of the fighting was nearly over.

He owed his life to Edgar; Edgar had chosen to reach him and apparate both of them out of the way rather than wait and let Mason reach his sister and Mason didn’t know how he felt about that, he didn’t know how he _should_ feel about that, there was too much spinning around in his head and none of it was coherent.

Another crack of apparition startled them both, and Mason’s wand was instantly levelled at the figure in front of them.

Lily held her hands up quickly, shaking her head. “Mase, it’s me,” she whispered. “It’s just me. It’s over, they’re gone. The Aurors are arriving, late as always,” she joked with a soft smile, “So the Order sort of have to vanish sharpish.”

“Lily,” Mason said hoarsely, glancing down at Edgar, who was still clinging to him, his shoulder shaking.

She looked down at Edgar, then back at the house, and finally to Mr Bones’ body lying prone on the ground and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped.

“How many?” she whispered, green eyes shining with tears.

Mason closed his eyes. “Five. Both parents, his sister and her kids.”

“Oh _God_,” she breathed, dropping down next to them and adding her arms to Mason’s, circling them around Edgar, not knowing what else she could do. “I’m so sorry.”

Lily pressed a kiss to Mason’s forehead fiercely, wiping away her tears with her free hand. “But you two are okay. That’s something.”

Mason remembered the sound of the toddler’s screams cutting off so suddenly. He didn’t feel okay.

James appeared next to Lily, the lenses of his glasses shattered and a long thin cut running across his cheek. Lily turned and widened her eyes in concern, but he brushed her off lovingly but hastily.

“It’s Sirius,” he said, his face grim. “Marlene needs some help.”

Lily, who had started healer training but had stopped once she became pregnant with Harry, stepped forwards immediately. “Where are they?”

“The main pub,” James said briskly, trying not to let himself think too much about Sirius being hurt as he bent down to help Edgar stand. “Bones?”

Edgar lifted his head slowly, as though it weighed a thousand tonnes.

“Amelia Bones is your sister right? She works for the Ministry?” he checked.

Edgar’s lips trembled but he managed a nod, face pale.

James smiled gently. “Then she’s at the pub too, talking to Moody. I’ll take you to her.”

He nodded, his blonde hair flopping over his face as his chin dropped again with the effort of moving. James took the weight of him from Mason, knowing they’d have to walk because Edgar wasn’t in a fit state to apparate and letting Mason move quickly to the pub they’d ran past earlier.

As Mason burst through the doors, the main structure of the building still intact, he immediately saw Sirius laid out on the floor, Marlene and Lily frantically working on cleaning a gash down his side. Turning away and gagging slightly at the sight of the exposed flesh, Mason steadied himself against the wall as his head span again: The Order had, for the most part, avoided this sort of damage. A few people had died, Caradoc was still missing and the violence had certainly increased over the summer and into winter, but this carnage, this new level of devastation, had been bad enough when it was strangers.

It was so much worse when it was his friends.

“Lily, we need to get him back to his flat, I know he keeps first aid stuff there and then we can get him straight into bed,” Marlene said, voice higher than usual and Mason could detect the tremble in it. “I think he’s going to be okay, we can handle it ourselves, we can keep him out of St Mungo’s but I need a cleaner environment than this.”

Mason squeezed his eyes shut but he felt like someone was still staring at him so he opened them again, the nagging feeling swirling around to the forefront of his mind until it clicked.

“Lyra,” he breathed, turning to look at Marlene, her blonde hair in a hastily tied ponytail as she continued to try and stem the bleeding.

“No, she’s not here,” Lily said, trying to sound calm but frowning slightly at the look in Mason’s eyes.

“No, no, I know,” he stammered, “She doesn’t know about the Order, she doesn’t know where we went except that there was an attack, if you appear with Sirius…”

Marlene glanced up and bit her lip. “I really don’t want to do that to her, Mason, but we need to get him somewhere better and fast, I don’t have anything to stop this bleeding, I can’t stitch it up, I need to be in the flat.”

He nodded jerkily, glancing up at the ceiling as if to check for the cracks that had been so dangerous in the other building just minutes before; the adrenaline was still pumping around his body, completely at odds with the sickening cold he felt.

Lily and Marlene exchanged looks and then nodded, hooking their arms under Sirius’ and praying nothing else went wrong as they apparated away from the ruined village.

There was a small streak of blood on the flagstones where Sirius had been and Mason stared at it for a long, silent moment before he turned and heaved, sinking onto the floor as his body gave up and emptied his stomach painfully onto the floor.

* * *

“Sirius, Mason, is that you back?” Lyra called at the commotion outside, peering through the peephole nervously, wand in her hand before screaming loudly as she saw Sirius’ body on the doorstep, distorted in shape but clear enough to terrify her, Marlene and Lily now both knocking on the door desperately.

She didn’t bother to ask anything, she just wrenched the door open and scrambled to help them carry him, her chest heaving in instant panic – she could see the red stain on his shirt and the slit in the material where they’d already tried to access the wound.

Lily cleared the kitchen table with a flick of her wand and Marlene and Lyra laid him on the wood carefully, Lyra feeling grateful she could now let go and step back because her hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold her wand.

Sirius bleeding in front of her was hardly a new sight - their mother might’ve only been verbally abusive but Sirius had seen the end of their father’s belt often enough for her to know what he looked like injured - but this was different. So so different.

“What happened?”

Lily was already tying her auburn hair back too, Marlene yanking the healing kit out of the cupboard and opening it on the table next to Sirius’ head.

“Please, what _happened_?” Lyra whispered, bunching her hair up and letting it drop restlessly, wringing her hands, trying to find something to do. “Where’s Mason?”

“He’s safe, unhurt,” Marlene promised, before she ripped Sirius’ top further and moved it well away from the wound.

She cast a silent prayer upwards. “Please tell me what happened?” Lyra repeated, “Mason just appeared, and told Sirius about an attack, they told me to stay here and then they just vanished.”

“Lyra, I understand you have questions,” Lily said, pulling her in for a quick, tight hug. “We’ll answer them, I promise. But I need to help Lene. Can you get some hot water boiling, just a kettle’s worth, like last time I saw you, yeah?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level so Lyra wouldn’t panic more.

Lyra nodded jerkily, backing into Sirius’ kitchen to find his kettle. She doubted the water was necessary to what they were doing but doing something was better than doing nothing.

“Sirius, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Marlene croaked, continuing to search through the medical kit for what she needed as Lily tried to wipe the wound. “I don’t like that he’s not awake, Lily.”

“You think I do?” Lily replied tightly, “I’ve stopped the bleeding for now, are you ready to try and check it for magical residue?”

Marlene glanced at Sirius’ pale face and took a deep breath. Training was all well and good, Marlene was good at her job, but putting it into practise when it was your boyfriend lying unconscious in front of you was considerably more difficult. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?” Lily checked gently. They’d not talked about where Marlene and Sirius were in their relationship recently and Lily was regretting it now as she saw the wild look in Marlene’s eyes. She tried to imagine how she’d feel if it was James on the table unmoving and the panic she felt even at the thought swamped her entirely.

“I’m sure,” Marlene said, tugging her ponytail tighter and grabbing her wand to start checking over the cut.

Lily stepped back to let Marlene work, brushing Sirius’ hair back from his face gently and turning to Lyra who was still hovering in the doorway, the kettle hissing, forgotten, behind her.

“What are you all not telling me?” Lyra asked, her voice surprisingly calm. “Mason says there’s an attack but that I, the Auror, am not needed but Sirius is. Mason and Dorcas knew each other before training started and never explained why. He’d regularly appear in the mornings with bruises and bags under his eyes and just said it was ‘work’. Sirius told me he didn’t work, he just did things to ‘help with the war’. You all know each other far too well to just be friends from school, you were different years and Dorcas doesn’t have nearly enough stories about you guys from school for me to believe it.”

Lily licked her lips nervously – the game was up.

“Maybe you should speak to Mason about this?” she suggested gently.

“Maybe! Seeing as my brother, my best friend and my– Mason – have all been dragged into this and no one bothered to even tell me what they were doing!” Lyra snapped, refusing to be thrown off by her automatic inclusion of Mason into the people she cared about most.

She glanced behind Lily to Marlene who was now carefully stitching up the cut on Sirius’ side, her lips pursed in concentration.

“I’m going to find Mason, maybe he’ll actually give me some answers,” she muttered, knowing she couldn’t stay in this flat, not even to wait for Sirius to wake up.

“Lyra,” Lily sighed, reaching out a hand but Lyra brushed past her quickly, hands still shaking as she stormed out of the room, the front door slamming shut behind her.

* * *

Lyra had gone back to her own flat to find Dorcas’ address book and then to go to Mason’s from there, but Dorcas had tried to stop her, having just arrived back from the village herself. Lyra was furious enough that she pushed roughly past Dorcas too, zipping up her jacket and yanking their front door open.

“I know about your secret club. I’m asking Mason first only because I’ve not seen him to make sure he’s okay,” Lyra snapped, turning back to face her as Dorcas started to protest, “I don’t know if you were there today too, and I do hope you’re not hurt, but when I get home, you’ve got some explaining to do, Dorcas.”

Dorcas winced slightly but nodded and closed her mouth, letting her leave without a fight – she knew she’d react the same way if their situations were flipped and now wasn’t the time for this.

Lyra slammed her second door of the evening and apparated to Mason’s flat on the other side of London.

When she arrived, it was dark inside, but peering through the little window in the door meant she could just make out his wand on what she guessed was the kitchen table so she knew he was in.

“Mason?” she called, trying the door handle, determined to see him and ask him straight what mystery group they were in and why she had been deliberately kept out of the loop.

To her confusion – Mason was nothing if not thorough and this was wildly out of character – the door was unlocked.

“Mason, it’s me, Lyra?” she said, her voice less steady now. “Are you in?”

There was a bang from the bathroom and she jumped, raising her wand quickly. There had been a few cases of wizards vanishing from their homes with no trace and an unlocked door was rarely a good sign. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, her mind cycling through a thousand horrific scenarios.

She didn’t have to worry long: the bathroom door was yanked open the rest of the way and Mason appeared, wiping his eyes and then mouth with the back of his sleeve hastily.

“H-how did you get in?” he asked, and it didn’t take a genius to notice he was breathing rather heavily.

“You left the door unlocked,” she said uncertainly, “Is everything okay?”

He nodded jerkily and forced a smile.

“Forgive me if I’m not convinced,” she muttered, going over to him slowly, as if he were a cornered animal. There was something in his eyes that unnerved her.

“Are you hurt?” Mason asked, catching her elbow quickly.

“No, no, because someone told me to stay in the house, if you remember?” she said, managing a tight smile. “While he ran off and got into a fight. Are _you_ hurt?”

Mason debated this question for a minute. “Not physically.”

“Fucking _hell_, what does that mean?” she muttered, deciding swearing was appropriate for this situation.

“Edgar was there, he raised the alarm, apparently,” Mason said shakily, “His village was being attacked, so I went with him to his house to try and find his family.”

She stilled, an awful dread blossoming in her chest.

“His mum was killed as we arrived, we tried to get upstairs, his sister was up there,” he whispered, swaying slightly on the spot. “She had two – two little babies, and…”

“Mason,” she mumbled, grabbing his arm and leading him to one of the sofas before he fell.

“We couldn’t get to them, we just got stuck and their screams – they just – cut off, no warning, the babies just stopped crying,” he continued, barely aware that she was there as she pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around him, all her questions about his involvement in the group vanishing.

“Edgar managed to apparate us both out but he had to leave his sister to do it, he picked me over his sister and I don’t know if _I_ can forgive him for that. I wish he hadn’t.”

“Mason, don’t ever say that,” she said firmly, pulling back and looking him dead in the eye. “_Don’t_."

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” he admitted, laughing nervously. It felt like something had broken today; he’d been juggling everything for so long and now, in slow motion, he’d missed one of the balls and they were all tumbling down around him. “I feel broken.”

“No one should’ve asked you to do your Auror work and whatever else it is you’re doing with everyone,” she said firmly. “That’s too much for any one person, Mason.”

“You know about the Order?” he blinked.

The corner of her mouth twitched. “Now I do.”

He gaped slightly. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Did no one think I’d work it out eventually?” she shrugged, “You’re not that good of an actor, McKinnon. Dorcas is even worse at lying than you.”

“I wanted you to join,” Mason admitted, “As much as I want you safe too, I wanted to ask you. Professor Dumbledore was… sceptical, he still is, I think.”

Lyra rolled her eyes. “I knew he didn’t like me,” she joked. “But… why didn’t anyone tell me? Why couldn’t I just know? Sirius is being stitched up as we speak and if he’d died I wouldn’t even have known why until too late. Dorcas is in this ‘Order’ too, right? And you?” she whispered. “What if something had happened? That’s not fair, Mason, I have a right to know.”

Mason looked down at the floor, trying to focus. She’d care if something happened to him. She’d care if something happened to him. He needed to have this conversation now, the panic could wait – he would make it wait, for her he’d do this.

“What do you want to know?” he mumbled, watching her as she sat down next to him.

“Thank you,” she replied softly, knowing it couldn’t be easy. “What is the Order?”

“The Order of the Phoenix,” he said, taking a deep breath. “We were set up by Dumbledore, but Moody’s involved with a lot of it too. We were set up because the Auror department can’t handle it all on their own, and there are legal hoops the Aurors have to jump through to get results and it doesn’t work fast enough. It means we can find, hunt down and kill Death Eaters without having to wait for paperwork to be signed off. It’s technically illegal, which is why we have to be careful at work – we’re supposed to be arresting ourselves even if the Auror department is largely grateful for the help.”

Lyra blinked. “I-I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

“Understandable,” he said with the ghost of his usual smile, “It’s very morally grey in every sense, but we only ever attack confirmed Death Eaters or those who are actively hurting people at the time. It’s not the same sort of thing we’ve been doing, investigating suspects. It’s not just randomly guessing and hoping they were guilty, either, it’s… more life and death. We kill in defence of ourselves and we kill to protect other people, that’s it.”

She nodded slowly, playing with her fingers. “And you’re a member?”

“I am, so is Dorcas, Sirius, Marlene… we all are, really. Dumbledore recruited quite a few of us before we left Hogwarts, but there are plenty of people who are older who are also members. I won’t say any more names or Dumbledore will kill me himself but you get the idea,” he smiled, glancing across at her.

“And Dumbledore doesn’t want me to join?”

“To be fair,” Mason said awkwardly, “When you left Hogwarts you were due to be engaged to Avery. We knew you were skilled, he’d considered it, but circumstances were too dodgy to try.”

She bit her lip. “Honestly? I don’t know if I’d even want to join. I don’t know if that’s for me. I’m no hero, Mason.”

“That’s okay, no one would hold it against you.”

She laughed. “You might not, but someone would. But thank you for telling me, no one else would say anything and I was going insane.”

“You’re welcome.”

She paused, sighed and then looked back at him carefully, examining him from head to toe. “You look like shit, you know that?”

“Gee, thanks,” he muttered.

Lyra huffed. “You said you weren’t hurt physically, but you looked like you were having a breakdown. What’s up?”

“I wouldn’t know where to start, and I’m absolutely not going to dump it on you,” he said firmly, straightening his back. He felt better now anyway – still upset, still shaky, but more in control. The tight pain across his chest had vanished and the fight or flight response that had swamped him since he’d left the village was slowly retreating thanks to the distraction of her arrival. He was dreading her leaving.

“You absolutely are, and if you don’t tell me then I’ll… I’ll tell your mum,” she smiled.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Mason protested.

“Well I don’t know her, but I’d tell Marlene,” Lyra corrected, “Just… it’s not healthy keeping all of this in, Mason, surely you know that? You have to take care of yourself.”<

“I know,” he admitted quietly. “But I can’t just stop doing any of the things I’m doing. I’ve fought today, I have to go to work tomorrow and do everything again and-“

“Then I’ll tell Moody,” she said stubbornly, clenching her jaw, “You’re going to burn out if you do this much more, don’t deny it.”

“You’re going to tell Moody?” he snorted.

“Yeah, I fucking will. I’ll make him give you less work unless he wants to deal with me,” she said, having started off angry but realising how ridiculous she sounded – Moody was an insanely accomplished wizard, she didn’t stand a chance.

“I’d pay to see that,” Mason said, half grinning and her heart leapt slightly.

“I’ll let you know when and where,” she teased, nudging his side.

They fell silent for a minute and Mason glanced across at the kitchen table where just a few hours earlier, Jon had been. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes, the pain in his chest returning with vigour.

“Mason?”

“Mmm?”

Lyra watched him for a moment. “Don’t stay here alone tonight? Come back with me, stay on our sofa, or see if you can stay with Sirius, or _something_. Just… don’t sit in the dark, alone, and work yourself up, please?” she said gently.

He opened his eyes again and met hers, hating that he immediately started to cry as he angrily swiped at the tears.

She shushed him softly and wrapped her arms around him again. “I know our sofa isn’t the comfiest, but it’s got to be better than this, surely.”

He laughed wetly and hugged her back, pressing a kiss impulsively to the top of her head where she was tucked up against him. “Your sofa is fucking _awful_, Lyra. My legs will dangle off the end.”

“Rude,” she protested, “Only I can insult our furniture.”

“I don’t even fit on it!” he laughed, unable to stop now he’d started.

“Take my bed then! Whatever works,” she promised, grinning as she pulled away but wishing she didn’t have to – she felt like he could do with a proper hug but guessed that might be more Dorcas’ forte.

He scoffed. “My mother raised a gentleman, I am not taking your bed.” They were on dangerous ground here as it was without talk of her bed confusing him even more.

“Just go and get your stuff, McKinnon,” she laughed, standing up and flicking his nose softly.

“You’re so mean to me!” he huffed, flicking her back and retreating into his bedroom to grab some things, not wanting to have to come back to the flat before work.

“No, I’m mean to everyone but you and Dorcas, you know how this goes!” she called, smiling slightly as she waited by the table hovering.

“I feel so honoured!” he grinned, reappearing with a small rucksack, stuffing things into it distractedly.

She laughed and shrugged. “You should. Come on, Dorcas will be wondering what we’re doing,” she added, blushing slightly at the insinuation in her words but knowing the darkened room would hide it.

They apparated back to the girls’ flat easily and Lyra sighed as she unlocked the door and slipped inside, bracing herself for the conversation with Dorcas. Despite the distraction of Mason and his situation, she was still angry at Dorcas – and her most of all – because best friends don’t lie. Realistically, Mason had no obligation to include her in his secrets, they had a complicated relationship at best, but Dorcas? Dorcas did. And Dorcas had lied.

Was it wrong to be mad at her best friend for being part of a secret society trying to kill Death Eaters? Maybe, but she wasn’t mad about what Dorcas was doing, she was mad about the deception.

“Lyra,” Dorcas said hastily as her and Mason appeared in the living room. “Are you – are you _both_ okay?”

“Mason’s sleeping here tonight, even if he does think the sofa is shit,” Lyra said with a glance behind her at Mason who held his hands up innocently and dumped his bag in the corner of the room. “And me and you are going to have a chat,” she added, pointing to Dorcas and then pointing through to the kitchen.

Dorcas blinked and nodded, smoothing her hair back before she slipped over to the other room. There was something steely in Lyra’s eyes that Dorcas hadn’t seen before. It told you that she was Orion Black’s daughter and that she wouldn’t take your shit.

“Won’t be long,” Lyra muttered to Mason before she followed Dorcas in.

Dorcas had perched herself on the kitchen sideboard, her hands wrapped around a mostly cold cup of tea as she worried her bottom lip.

“When were you going to tell me?” Lyra snapped, dropping her wand on the kitchen table and folding her arms across her chest. “When exactly were you going to tell me about the Order of the Phoenix and stop lying to me?”

“Lyra –“

“NO, don’t,” she hissed, “Mason’s explained it all to me, or enough to understand why you’re part of it, and believe me I’m not angry about that. But we said no lies, Doe, we said we’d tell each other everything! And you’ve lied to me over and over again about where you were going, how you knew people, where the bruises and sleepless nights were coming from. Not only did you lie, but you were in _danger_ and I didn’t know! I could’ve been waiting up to make sure you were okay, or waiting with a first aid kit, or even just been there to talk to and make sure you weren’t doing this alone, but instead you’ve just _lied_!” she said, her anger trailing off into tears as her voice shook and her throat tightened.

“I have to go back to Sirius’ tonight to check if he’s okay because I was told nothing until he appeared on the doorstep unconscious and bleeding, something I _never_ thought I’d have to see again, I didn’t know if you’d been involved, Mason was at home having witnessed awful, awful things, and I’d been sat in Sirius’ living room going _mad_ with worry, unable to help or do anything! That’s BULLSHIT! That’s bullshit and you know it! I deserve to know!”

“I know,” Dorcas said quietly, her own brown eyes filling with tears, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” Lyra gasped, shaking her head. “Mason said Dumbledore hasn’t tried to recruit me yet because I was engaged to Robert – fair enough, that’s fucking suspicious – but for you to not even tell me what you were doing just makes me feel like you agree with him.”

Dorcas looked horrified. “No, never! Never, Lyra, I know you’re not with them!”

“Then why didn’t you _say_/?! Why was I left out like a stupid little child who might be on the wrong side?” Lyra whispered.__

“I didn’t want you hurt, you were dealing with enough – and I know this is shit, Ly, please don’t tell me what I already know – you were dealing with enough and I didn’t want to add any more to that,” Dorcas replied, her voice hoarse. She dumped the tea down the sink and abandoned the mug, moving over to Lyra nervously.

“I – we – just wanted one of us to be separate from it. For one of us to not have to do what we’re doing. We could guarantee we’d never see you hurt or dead if we kept you out of this.”

“We’re in the middle of a war, Dorcas, no one can guarantee anything,” Lyra replied shakily. “Me not knowing about the Order wouldn’t protect me if this place got attacked. It wouldn’t protect me if I was caught up in something in Diagon Alley. I’m close enough to all of you that I’m surely a target anyway. Being a Blood Traitor puts a target on my back too. Lying to me wouldn’t protect me but being honest about what you were doing and why I might need to be more careful could.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorcas said, her voice raw, “I know it was wrong. I don’t think you’re working against us, I haven’t thought it for a single second since meeting you, I promise. No more lies.”

Lyra nodded slowly. “No more lies.”

“Can I hug you now?” Dorcas said with a weak smile, “I figured I’d be punched if I tried it before but…”

Lyra threw her arms around Dorcas tightly, burying her face in her friend’s neck. “I love you, you stupid idiot.”

“I love you more,” Dorcas promised, gripping her even tighter and rocking them gently. “No more lies,” she echoed, meaning it this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mason collects Sirius and they meet up with the Order of the Phoenix.  
Edgar Bones is there, and him and Mason head to his family home to try and save them. They make an attempt, but the house is falling apart, and Edgar chooses to apparate himself and Mason to safety rather than let Mason try to reach his sister and her children trapped upstairs.  
Sirius is injured and Lily and Marlene take him back to his flat. Mason is struggling with the aftermath of the attack and what he's witnessed.  
Lyra works out about the Order and gets angry that she was never told - Sirius being hurt has brought up unpleasant memories. She worries that they don't believe that she's on their side.  
She leaves to check on Mason, gets into a fight with Dorcas about the lies.  
She finds Mason in his flat. He's very distressed. They talk and she convinces him to stay on her sofa so he's not alone.  
They go back to her and Dorcas' flat, where her and Dorcas have the long overdue conversation. They make up, and Mason is much calmer even though Lyra is still worried about him.


	10. January 1981

_January 1st 1981_

The last month and a half of 1980 had passed in a blur of increasingly busy days at the Ministry, somehow managing to juggle work and the Order and settling into a routine with Lyra, ignoring whatever feelings were growing between them – neither of them had made a move and now they were comfortable as friends, both were too nervous to rock the boat. Increasingly, Mason was struggling to keep going, not so much physically but mentally, as the death toll rose and the viciousness of the attacks made everyone sick to their stomachs. Christmas had been rough, and everyone had relished the start of a new year as hope that by the time it ended, the war would have too, even if that felt so very far away.

As nice as it had been to take a holiday, even one forced on him by Lyra going behind his back to Moody and demanding he have the week over Christmas and New Year off, Mason was glad to be back despite feeling _slightly_ hungover. It was the New Year after all, and it was hard to say no to his mum when she topped up all their wine glasses. He pressed the button and stepped back to wait for the rickety old lifts, trying to remember what else had happened.

_“Okay, okay, we all have to share our resolutions, I’ve decided,” Marlene announced, wriggling happily on Sirius’ lap._

_“Uh, sorry, who died and made you queen?” Mason snorted, “I’m not sharing mine!”_

_“So it’s embarrassing?” Marlene smirked._

_Marcus, their father, rolled his eyes and batted Marlene affectionately around the head as he squeezed through them all to hand his wife another glass of wine.___

_ __ _

_ __ _

_“I hate to admit it, but I’m with Marlene on this one,” Marie laughed, taking the glass carefully and kissing her husband’s cheek as he settled in next to her for the last ten minutes of 1980._

_“I want to hear your secret, Mase!” Mark bounced from his spot on the sofa, his puppy curled up fast asleep on his legs._

_“Merlin, it’s not a **secret**, a resolution is not a secret,” Mason huffed, hiding behind his wine glass and glaring at his younger sister._

_“But you won’t tell us, so it is a secret,” Sirius countered with a smirk and Marlene high fived him._

_Mason jabbed a finger at him. “Careful, Black, or you’re out the door.”_

_“Here here,” said Marcus lazily, but he was clearly not genuinely bothered by his daughter’s boyfriend’s presence – they were all just glad the two of them had put a damn label on their relationship and were happy._

_“Surely if we all share our resolutions then there’s no reason for you to not share yours, sweetheart?” Marie said innocently but there was a glint in her eye and Mason glared at her too, mouthing ‘traitor’. She just laughed._

_“My resolution is to teach Marlo lots of new tricks,” Mark announced happily, petting the dog’s ears and sipping his glass of milk. “And also go to bed when Mummy says so.”_

_“Mine is to finally get my bike working so it’s not just sat in the corner of my living room annoying people,” Sirius added and Marlene snorted loudly._

_“Ha! You’re not managing yours then, are you?” she smirked. “Mine is cheesy as f-“_

_“Marlene Marie,” Marcus cut in quickly._

__

__

_“Mine is cheesy,” she corrected, “But… just live more in the moment, you know? Stuff is scary but I want to enjoy life, not creep around in fear.”_

__

__

_Marie watched her softly, nodding. “I have to admit, mine is the same, we’re living through dark times but I don’t want to lose hope. We have **wonderful** Aurors working so hard-“_

__

_“Mum,” Mason groaned._

__

__

_“To keep us safe, and the work the three of you do for the Order is… astonishing.”_

__

__

_“None of that today, dear,” Marcus said firmly but lovingly, resting his hand on her knee. “My New Year’s resolution is to keep the bloody gnomes out of the garden!”_

__

__

_They all laughed, Mark pouting because he rather liked watching Marlo chase the gnomes around in between fetching his ball._

__

__

_They turned to Mason expectantly and he groaned again, tipping his head back._

__

__

_Marlene giggled. “Spit it out.”_

__

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_Mason drained the rest of his wine quickly, making Sirius bark with laughter. “My resolution is to actually ask Lyra out,” he said through gritted teeth, refusing to meet anyone’s eye as Marlene howled with laughter at Sirius’ put out expression._

__

__

_“I knew there was a reason you didn’t invite anyone home for Christmas!” Marie said triumphantly, clapping her hands together._

__

__

_“That’s my sister!” Sirius protested loudly until Marlene pulled a face at him, reminding him just whose family home they were in._

__

__

_Marlo stirred on Mark’s lap and yawned, looking around at them all in confusion as he cuddled closer to the little boy, licking his hands happily._

__

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_“I think this is the first time you’ve admitted you even want to ask her out,” Marlene mused, regarding him over her wine glass. “Proud of you! She’d definitely say yes, by the way.”_

__

__

_“I regret saying anything, you all suck,” Mason muttered as Marie leaned over and kissed the top of his head._

__

__

_Marcus just chuckled from opposite him and winked. “You know how I asked your mother out? It was Hogwarts, Valentine’s Day in my sixth year,” he started happily._

__

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_“I was so scared, I felt sure she would turn me down – your mother was quite the catch you know,” Marlene continued, mimicking her father’s voice._

__

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_“I still am, thank you very much,” Marie interjected, rolling her eyes._

__

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_“Dad, we know the story, don’t worry,” Mason grinned._

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_“Guys, out into the garden quick, we’ve got a minute left!” Marlene said, punching Sirius’ arm as she glanced at the clock and realised the time. “The Muggles are doing fireworks from the village, right?”_

__

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_“I want to see the fireworks!” Mark said, panicking that he was going to miss them as everyone started to stand up, Marlo hopping down and slipping outside to investigate._

__

__

_Mason chuckled at his younger brother and scooped him up so he didn’t have to sit in his wheelchair to watch, following his parents outside onto their little patio. Looping his arm around Marlene’s shoulders, Sirius pulled her closer and kissed her quickly as Marcus grabbed the headphones that had been Mark’s as a baby for the puppy, knowing full well Marlo would not like the loud noises about to happen._

__

__

_Ecstatic at the sight of his puppy with headphones on, Mark wriggled in Mason’s arms, his little arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he craned to look at the sky._

__

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_“Ten,” Marlene whispered, loud enough that they could all hear it, but quiet enough to not disturb the peace that had fallen over the garden now the scramble to get outside was over._

__

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_“Nine, eight, seven, six,” she continued, leaning back against Sirius._

__

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_“Five, four, three, two, one!” Mark finished for her, cheering as the first firework arched into the sky and exploded in a spectacular array of colours._

__

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_“Happy New Year, everyone,” Mason smiled, pressing his cheek against his little brother’s as Mark pointed up at the next firework, and the next one, and the next one._

__

__

_He was happy, he **was**, as his mum and dad wrapped them all in hugs and wished them the best for 1981, and his heart had never felt quite as full as when he glanced across and saw Sirius and Marlene kissing, their faces lit up with the colours above. He bent down to let Mark give Marlo a New Year kiss that the puppy eagerly responded to but despite everything, the smell of the gunpowder and explosions and the jets of colourful light in the sky tugged at his chest, the familiar tight pain blooming there as he forced himself to remember the were Muggle fireworks, not spells, just fireworks, not spells, just–_

__

__

“Good morning, trooper, someone looks hungover,” Dorcas smirked, stopping Mason just outside his office and breaking his train of thought so suddenly that it took him a few moments to compose himself, taking a deep breath.

He laughed quickly and shrugged. “You know how New Year is.”

“That I do, I am on a double dose of paracetamol myself,” she grinned, “She’s already in there, I think, and the in-tray looked pretty full so I’ll not keep you. See you at lunch, and Happy New Year!”

“You too, Doe,” Mason called, smiling as he headed into his office, grateful for the interruption before he’d walked right into Lyra still remembering the previous night.

“Morning,” he called, dumping his jacket on the pegs by the door and running a hand through his hair, his resolution from last night still burning in his ears as he turned to face her, “Happy New Year!”

Lyra registered the voice after a moment and looked up, picking her head up out of her hands and forcing a smile on her face. “To you too, how was being at home?”

Mason raised an eyebrow at her slowly as he walked over to the desk. “Home was good, Marlene and Sirius were insufferable as usual. How was your midnight?”

She tucked her hair behind her ears – she’d cut it short sometime during his week off, he noticed, it now skimmed her shoulders and made her look even prettier – and nodded slowly. “Midnight was lovely, actually. Dorcas was at home, so I joined her after work and her mum stuffed us with food and they got drunk and we watched rubbish Muggle movies before we came home just after twelve.”

“Sounds great,” he chuckled, “And I’m glad, but… why do you look like you’ve been crying?”

She blinked, not having expected him to notice but at the same time she was kind of glad he had.

“Oh. Um. Because I have been,” she admitted quietly, leaning back on his chair and managing a wan smile.

“And… why?” he asked gently, “That’s no way to start the year.”

She laughed wetly and shook her head, handing the letter over to him and getting up to give him back the main desk she’d moved onto while she was covering him.

Mason read and reread the letter, eyes boring into the carefully constructed words before he dropped the paper on the desk and swore under his breath. “Just when I thought the guy couldn’t be more of a fucking dick.”

Lyra laughed slightly. “Robert Avery never fails to surprise you, does he?”

“_Why_ did he send this? To hurt you? How fucking petty,” Mason snapped, walking around to the other side of the desk and standing in front of her, wanting to reach out to her but not knowing how.

She shrugged and tipped her head to the side, willing herself not to cry again but feeling the first tear roll down her cheek.

“He knows me too well to not touch a nerve. He’s reminding me he’s out there, that… that he thinks I’ll come back. And he decided telling me that Regulus had received the Dark Mark was just a fun addition.”

“I’ll kill Avery next time I see him,” Mason promised, brushing the tear off her cheek softly.

She smiled at him and shrugged again uselessly, wiping her eyes roughly. “I don’t want to have to hunt down my own brother, Mason,” she whispered. “You know Barty Crouch passed the law? It happened just this week, I assume you were told. Moody is furious, but we now can and _have_ to use brutal force on Death Eaters that resist arrest. We’re allowed to use the Unforgiveables on them. If… If I see him, if he runs, I have to pick between doing my job and killing my brother or letting a known Death Eater go and I don’t know what I’d do in that situation, I never wanted this.”

Mason wrapped his arms around her suddenly, tucking her against him and taking a deep breath. “It’ll be okay, shhh, you don’t have to think about that just now.”

“He’s my big brother, Mason,” she sobbed, gripping the edges of his robes, “He used to play dress up with me and help me cut up my food when I didn't want to eat and pretend to be the prince when I wanted to be a princess, he stayed up with me all night when Sirius left, and now he’s burned their _fucking_ mark into his skin and I have to pretend I’m okay with this, pretend I’m okay with knowing I have to kill him, that you and Dorcas and Sirius and everyone I care about are actively fighting against him.”

“You don’t have to pretend anything, Moody would never put you on a mission if we knew he was going to be involved,” Mason said firmly. He didn’t know if it was a policy, but Moody fucking owed him one – he’d make it a policy.

“I _hate_ this, happy new year to me,” she whispered, pulling away from him and wiping her eyes angrily. “And I hate that we only ever hug when one of us is crying. I’m sorry you had to come back from holiday to find _this_ waiting for you.”

“There are far worse things to come back to,” Mason promised, grabbing her a tissue from the box on the desk, “This place has never looked tidier and if I didn’t think you were ready to graduate before, I would now. You’ve done my job, as far as everyone has told me, flawlessly.”

She laughed slightly and blew her nose, forcing herself to finish dealing with the news internally and smiling, “Guess you’re not needed, McKinnon.”

“Guess not,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll just leave then…”

“Bye,” she smirked despite her red rimmed eyes, sitting back down on his chair. “I’ve got this.”

“You’re _awful_.”

“I know,” she grinned, shrugging. “Thank you, though, I feel better.”

“Good,” he smiled, “I don’t like it when you’re upset.”

She snorted and vacated his chair for her own, allowing him to flop into it and spin around childishly as he grinned back at her.

“How are you doing, anyway?” she asked, quickly grabbing her quill back from his space and dropping it into the ink pot in the corner. “With everything, you know?”

He shrugged slightly, brushing some lint from his robe as he avoided her question for a moment. He felt the weight of her gaze on him, so he looked back up and met it with a sigh.

“The week off was nice, and I will begrudgingly thank you for it, I don’t know if it fixed the issues though,” he admitted.

“If it had fixed anything I’d have declared it a miracle,” she replied lightly, “But you look… better. More rested. That’s better than nothing.”

Mason smiled back warmly and nodded, grabbing the first folder off the pile and taking a deep breath. “It is. I feel better, I mean it.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled broadly, responding to his warmth with her own and feeling the ache in her chest loosen as his blue eyes flashed with the closest thing to happiness that she’d seen in them for a while.

He span around on the chair again for something to do and then stopped abruptly as he swivelled to face her again, a grin splitting across his face.

“What?” she snorted, arching one brow carefully.

“I completely forgot! After work tomorrow we’re going to the Potter’s house!”

“Why?”

“It’s my birthday!” he laughed.

Lyra’s eyes widened. “What?! You never said anything! I have twenty four hours to get a present?! Merlin, Mason, give a girl some warning!” she whined, tipping her head back in despair.

“I’m not asking for a present, don’t be silly,” he protested, waving her off, “I’m mentioning it because they’re hosting the party, they’ve got the biggest house!”

“I get an invite to your birthday party?” she grinned, pulling herself closer to their desk and crossing her feet happily underneath where he couldn’t see.

“Of course!” Mason laughed, “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” she snorted, shrugging, “I wanted to check! What is this anyway, the big twenty three?”

Mason pouted. “You and everyone else are officially banned from saying it, it sounds so _old_.”

“Happy _twenty third birthday_ for tomorrow,” she smirked.

“Lyra…”

“Wow, only seven years until you reach _thirty_!” she gasped, clasping her hands together. “You’re really ol – ow!”

He cut her off by smacking her playfully around the head with the folder, raising it again with a wide grin so she fully knew he was joking – it might not have come up recently, but he remembered how she’d been back in training when threatened.

“Don’t _hit_ me!” she protested, pushing her chair backwards swiftly and wheeling out of reach of him. “You’re so rude!”

“I’m rude? I’m rude! You’re the one with the countdown to my thirtieth birthday!”

At that, her eyes gleamed and she hopped up, darting over to their chalkboard, used mostly for notes or brief plans and ignored the rest of the time. Wiping it clean with a spell, she grabbed the chalk, made a quick calculation in her head and wrote in large letters along the side ‘2500 days until Mason turns 30!!! :-)’ as he let out an outraged cry and hurried after her.

“Okay well first of all, idiot, it’s two thousand five hundred and _fifty five_ days,” he smirked, plucking the chalk from her hand, standing behind her and correcting the number as she huffed back at him, “And second, is that the highest you can reach?”

“… Maybe,” she muttered, glancing at the writing halfway up the board.

Mason sniggered, easily stretching to reach the top of the board and writing ‘Lyra sucks at maths!!! :-)‘

She made a derisive noise and whacked his arm, making the mouth of the smiley face very wonky as the line veered downwards.

“Now look what you’ve done! That’s it, you’re uninvited!” Mason said smugly.

“No!” she whined, ducking under his arm and grabbing the duster to try and rub out the line across the rest of the board.

“Yes! You don’t get to insult me and mess up my writing and still come to my party!” Mason sighed dramatically.

Lyra put her hand to her forehead and pretended to swoon, “Oh no! How will I ever recover?”

“I know, the loss of such a gift is truly-“

“Ahem.”

There was a quiet knocking on the door and it creaked open slightly, revealing the awkward and embarrassed Jon, his red cheeks looking even brighter below his dark hair.

“Sorry to, uh, interrupt, I was heading this way and Moody asked me to pop this in to you, Lyra. From the other day?”

Lyra fumbled to put the duster back on the shelf and brush her hands off before she slipped over to grab the paperwork from him. “Thanks, Jon, sorry you got roped into being his errand boy, he’s awful for that.”

Mason cleared his throat and smiled tightly at Jon, who did the exact same back, nodding his head. Mason had found him at work after the disaster of a date and apologised again for running out, adding that he probably didn’t think it was going to work out and he was sorry for stringing him along. It hadn’t been a particularly fun encounter, but Jon had understood – the war was only growing in ferocity, neither of them really had the free time necessary; and on top of that, even if Mason hadn’t said anything, Jon wasn’t blind, everyone in the office was starting to cotton onto what was happening between Mason and Lyra. They’d agreed to just be colleagues and friends and put it behind them but doing that was easier said than done and it was still a pretty awkward situation all around.

“Oh, no, it’s okay, glad I could help,” Jon said, shaking his head at her and smiling. “I’ll see you around.”

“Oh, yeah, bye, thanks Jon,” she said hastily, pacing back over to the desk for something to do, feeling distinctly like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been.

Mason huffed and dropped the chalk back down next to the duster, cursing the awful timing of Jon’s errand.

* * *

“Oh my _God_,” James grinned, “He managed to cockblock you without even trying!”

Sirius threw his head back and laughed loudly as Mason folded his arms across his chest, finished with his story.

“It’s not funny.”

“Nah, I’m sorry, Mase, that is kind of funny,” James continued, sipping his beer and leaning back on the sofa. “Boys?”

Sirius and Peter nodded and Mason threw a pillow at them in annoyance, covering his own glass to prevent a spillage as Sirius returned fire with another bark of laughter.

“Did you not say something after Jon went?” Peter asked eagerly, eyes darting to the doorway in case the girls reappeared from showing Lyra around the house.

“Nah, I didn’t, we kind of snapped out of it and actually did some work,” he snorted.

“Shame, because that could’ve got _hot_,” James said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Prongs, please,” Sirius groaned, “There is a line, and you crossed it.”

“You’re a child, James,” Mason grinned. “A gross child.”

“At least I got the girl, what do the rest of you have to say to that, huh?” he smirked, waving his wedding band around smugly.

“No comment,” Sirius smirked too, “I’m all sorted.”

“Me and Mason aren’t the only single ones,” Peter protested, “Remus isn’t seeing anyone, I don’t think? I’ve not really spoken to him much recently, actually.”

Something flashed across Sirius’ eyes so quickly Mason wasn’t even sure it had been there at all.

“Dorcas is also single, so that’s five of us single and four all loved up, we’re the majority so you two smug pricks can hold your tongues,” Mason grinned, nudging Peter’s side.

“At least my tongue is being used t-“

James, Mason and Peter immediately made such a racket that Sirius couldn’t finish his sentence, to everyone’s relief.

“_What_ is going on in here?” Dorcas grinned, poking her head around the doorway and bounding over, her empty bottle in her hand before she switched it out for a new one from the crate on the table.

“Sirius is being filthy,” James grinned.

“Well please don’t be filthy, any of you, your son is awake and wants to join in the party,” Lily laughed warmly, turning around baby Harry in her arms as he gurgled happily, blinking at them all.

“Hello, mini Prongs! What are you doing up!” James cooed, taking him from Lily’s arms and kissing his son’s forehead. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and pouted as Lily retreated to the kitchen with Lyra. “Son, do you fancy going to Uncle Mason for a while? I’ve lost my beer and I’ve yet to give my wife a kiss this evening, which I’m sure she’s pissed about.”

“You know he doesn’t understand you, right?” Marlene grinned, flicking the back of James’ head as she went past, being tugged onto Sirius’ lap.

“Babies kind of do understand you,” Peter said, blinking quickly as he leaned forwards to explain. “It’s actually better for them if you speak to them like Prongs is doing rather than baby talk, according to some research.”

“Thank you, Wormtail,” James said triumphantly, passing the baby to Mason who cradled him easily in one arm, his drink in the other. “Aha, Lils, there you are! Where did you go? Drinks are in here!”

Lily held the bottle up. “Not the non-alcoholic ones!”

Lyra laughed, mimicking Lily as she showed them the second bottle and waved it with a grin.

“Wait, why would we want non-alcoholic drinks?” Peter frowned.

“You might not,” Lyra laughed, pouring her and Lily large glasses of the fizzy drink, “But Lily’s breastfeeding.”

“And Lyra doesn’t drink,” Mason added, shrugging as he pulled faces at Harry, who was making quiet sounds back at him.

“I don’t,” she confirmed, watching him with surprise because they hadn’t discussed that in a long time which meant he’d remembered that about her. “What even is this stuff anyway, Lily?”

“Schloer, it’s a Muggle drink and it’s _lush_,” she grinned, clinking their glasses together. “Cheers.”

“And happy birthday!” Dorcas added, “Now we’re all here can we do presents?”

“Anyone would think it was your birthday,” Mason grinned, rolling his eyes and setting Harry down on his mat in the middle to entertain himself for a bit.

“Presents!” James called, flicking his wand and summoning the parcels they’d hidden before Mason had arrived.

The others cheered and settled back as he started to work his way through the various bags and wrapped boxes happily. Marlene, who had already spent the day with Mason and their family at home, quickly lost interest in watching her brother open yet more presents so occupied herself by throwing mini pretzels up into the air and – very unsuccessfully – trying to catch them. Sipping her drink (it was really good, Lily hadn’t lied) and watching Marlene momentarily, Lyra giggled and crossed her legs; normally she hated being sober around drunk people, it was always messy and people tended to get meaner when drunk, but Lily wasn’t drinking either and this was a very different party to the sort she was used to. Dorcas, ever aware, had reminded her if she needed a break she could just take it and they wouldn’t ask questions, and had even asked if she wanted her to not drink either, but Lyra had turned her down firmly: being sober around drunk Robert and his friends was so far removed from this, with her friends happily tipsy and laughing at the socks Peter had picked out for Mason, that the worry hadn’t even crossed her mind.

Even if she wasn’t drinking, the atmosphere was contagious and as Mason hauled the box labelled from her and Dorcas onto his lap, she giggled and shot Dorcas a glance, leaning back on against the sofa happily.

“I thought you said you only had twenty-four hours to get me a gift,” Mason grinned at her, reading the label and laughing in anticipation of whatever was inside.

Lyra shrugged and hid a smirk behind her glass. “Dorcas just let me add my name on the label, don’t tell anyone.”

“My lips are sealed,” he promised, ripping off the paper and examining the box. “Are you guys _serious_?" “No, he’s there,” Dorcas pointed, and Sirius saluted happily, his other hand running through Marlene’s hair lazily.__

_ _ “We’re serious,” Lyra grinned, “Figured the office coffee was shit enough for one drink a day, let alone the million you have.”_ _

_ _ James had gone to pick Harry up from where he’d crawled to in the room and so peered over Mason’s shoulder, eyes widening. “That’s so cool!”_ _

_ _ “What is it?” Sirius said, snorting._ _

_ _ “It’s a little desk coffee maker,” Mason laughed, turning it round to show them, “Because the office coffee really is shit, it’s true.”_ _

_ _ “And Lyra did contribute,” Dorcas protested, “She bought you a new mug!”_ _

_ _ “Wow, how generous!”_ _

_ _ Lyra grabbed the extra bag with the mug and dumped it on his lap with a grin, flushing as he winked at her and dropping into the space next to him on the sofa, hands wrapped around her glass._ _

_ _ “Thank you everyone, despite being old and decrepit-“_ _

_ _ “You can’t steal our jokes from us,” James protested._ _

_ _ “- I’m having a really great day, and now the best bit starts,” Mason finished, ignoring James. “Getting drunk as _fuck_!”_ _

_ _ Sirius, Pete and Dorcas cheered, James handing out some more cans of beer as they did. Mason leaned back on the sofa and rested his arm along the back with his fingers very nearly brushing her shoulder, making Lyra acutely aware of just how close he was to her. It really didn’t help that he looked extremely good: maybe it was being unused to seeing him in casual clothes, maybe it was that he’d been sleeping better and was actually relaxing, maybe it was just that she’d _always_ found him hot and ignored it for the most part. Whatever it was, it was extremely distracting, and she was hardly paying attention to the conversation as she resisted the urge to ‘accidentally’ shift closer to him._ _

_ _ “If we’re saying this is a classic Gryffindor party, with the added bonus of Lyra being here too,” Marlene grinned, swapping her drink for a new one, “Then we have to play truth or dare. We just _do_, I don’t make the rules!”_ _

_ _ “Except you are making them?” Sirius pointed out, earning a whack on his arm._ _

_ _ “I am absolutely not playing truth or dare,” Mason said, shaking his head. “It never ends well.”_ _

_ _ “Yes you absolutely are,” Dorcas grinned wickedly._ _

_ _ “As a married man, I pass on all kissing dares, or any dares that mean I disrespect-“_ _

_ _ “We get it, James, you’re in love,” Peter snickered. “I’m in!”_ _

_ _ “Pete, you would be, there’s a chance you’ll get a snog out of this,” Sirius smirked and got a second whack, harder, from Marlene again._ _

_ _ “I’m in,” Dorcas laughed, “We all know that truths are the hard ones, not dares.”_ _

_ _ “I’m in,” Lyra shrugged, “I don’t think I’ve ever really played.”_ _

_ _ James blinked. “Sorry _what_?”_ _

_ _ “Yeah, I have to agree with him on that, what do you mean you’ve never played truth or dare?” Lily grinned, settling Harry back on her knee now he’d gotten bored of crawling around._ _

_ _ Lyra shrugged and sipped her Schloer slowly, “I guess it’s just not a classic Slytherin party thing? Not sure. But I’m in.”_ _

_ _ “Mason, now you have to play,” Marlene beamed. “You can’t be the only one not playing!”_ _

_ _ Mason gave his little sister a stern look then drained the rest of his drink. “I need something stronger than beer if I’m planning on acting like a sixteen year old again.”_ _

_ _ “Yeah, it was a while ago,” Lyra mused, and James choked on his drink, Dorcas whooped and Mason just glowered and threw a pillow at her lightly._ _

_ _ “Lyra Black!” Lily giggled, “Who would’ve guessed?”_ _

_ _ “ME! She does this all the time! She acts all innocent around you guys and then rips into me at work!” Mason protested, pouring himself a drink from the bottle of whiskey James and Lily had bought him. “She graffitied my board yesterday!”_ _

_ _ “Awhhh, poor little baby,” Lily pouted at him, bouncing Harry on her knee to make the comparison obvious, “Does Lyra say mean things to you?” She turned to Lyra and grinned, “Glad someone is keeping him in his place there too.”_ _

_ _ Lyra raised her glass to Lily and Lily did the same back, winking._ _

_ _ “This is bullying,” Mason muttered, glaring at Lyra who just smiled innocently back and fluttered her eyelashes. He choked slightly on the drink and turned back to look at the others._ _

_ _ “Okay, someone go first!” Marlene said, pointing at Dorcas. “Doe, you! Truth or dare?”_ _

_ _ “Truth, they’re the real tough option,” Dorcas shrugged._ _

_ _ “Hmmm, are you really not seeing anyone?” Marlene asked, raising an eyebrow._ _

_ _ “I’m really not,” Dorcas smiled, “I’m busy, dude.”_ _

_ _ “Waste of a question, Lene,” James groaned. “Could’ve got all sorts of info from her!”_ _

_ _ Marlene argued back immediately, of course, and the game quickly got derailed by their back and forth, Sirius doing a dare at some point in between to keep things moving, and so Lyra zoned out, being distracted once again by Mason sat next to her. He’d shaved today, and she couldn’t decide whether she liked it better or not, but it was different and she kept having to forcibly keep her gaze on the others because Dorcas had already caught her staring once._ _

_ _ “Lyra!”_ _

_ _ She jumped slightly and took a gulp of drink, blinking at the voice. “Yeah?”_ _

_ _ Dorcas’ eyes flashed with mischief. “Truth or dare?”_ _

_ _ “Merlin save me,” Lyra muttered and Mason snorted from next to her, angling his body to face her. His attention made her blush as it always did. “Uh…” Dare was suicide, she knew what Dorcas would ask from her for a dare and she didn't want to kiss Mason publicly. Truth was no better, but there was less embarrassment right away, or she could just lie – she knew Dorcas wouldn’t out her if she chose that option. “Truth?”_ _

_ _ James rubbed his hands together jokingly and leaned forwards to listen._ _

_ _ “Out of the people you’ve kissed…”_ _

_ _ “Thanks, Merlin, you were useless,” Lyra cursed, rolling her eyes._ _

_ _ “Out of the people you’ve kissed,” Dorcas repeated, grinning at her friend, “Who have you kissed, actually? And who would you say was the best?”_ _

_ _ “That’s two questions,” Lyra whined._ _

_ _ “Birthday rules, right Mason?” Dorcas said, and Lyra glared at her, knowing full well what she was doing._ _

_ _ Mason took another big gulp of whiskey, choked and shrugged, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone, most of all with Lyra. “Sure.”_ _

_ _ “Fantastic answer,” Lily said smugly, and Lyra didn’t know how she could look so innocent with a baby on her lap but also be so delighted that Lyra was going bright red._ _

_ _ “Uh, okay, I’ve kissed… Adrian, that was Valentine’s Day in first year, not sure if that really counts,” she started slowly, ticking them off on her fingers, “Rodolphus – before he was engaged to Bellatrix, can I add – and he was awful, Charlie in fifth year, Robert, of course, also awful, so I guess the best has to have been Mason,” she finished with a little shrug._ _

_ _ Dorcas crowed happily at the admission as the rest of their friends spluttered and yelled in protest at the news, Harry looking very put out at all the commotion._ _

_ _ “Sorry, when did you two-“_ _

_ _ “Mason! You never said!”_ _

_ _ “WHO said you could snog my-‘_ _

_ _ “It wasn’t like that!” Mason tried to cut across, glancing frantically across at Lyra for back up, his own cheeks warm. “It was just – wait it was the best?”_ _

_ _ She laughed awkwardly, crossing her legs under herself and shrugging. “No competition, really.”_ _

_ _ “No, sorry, rewind,” Sirius demanded. “When the fuck did you two kiss?”_ _

_ _ “And why were we not _told_?” Marlene added, horrified to have been out of the loop. “Mason, you never said when we talked at New Year about y-“_ _

_ _ “Well it was a while ago, okay, like November time,” Mason said defensively, running a hand through his hair and really wishing he hadn’t drank so much so quickly. It had been November 17th: he knew the date by heart now thanks to the amount of time he’d spent thinking about it but he wasn’t going to tell anyone that._ _

_ _ “It was on a mission, too,” Lyra added, laughing awkwardly. She’d known that their friends would ask questions, but she hadn’t quite thought it through. Honestly, remembering the kiss herself was excruciating enough when he was sat next to her looking so gorgeous and there was nothing she could do about it, she didn’t want to have to go over the whole story with them all too. She suddenly really really wanted five minutes of fresh air, if only to cool down her flaming cheeks._ _

_ _ “It was for a mission, yeah,” Mason said firmly._ _

_ _ Dorcas raised her eyebrows with a smirk. “And yet… it was her best kiss.”_ _

_ _ “Dorcas, I swear to Merlin,” Lyra groaned. “Shut up.”_ _

_ _ “Not a chance!”_ _

_ _ “In which case I am going to remove myself from this situation,” Lyra countered, extracting herself from the sofa and tugging her skirt back down with an awkward cough, still feeling Mason’s eyes on her. “And let you all continue this game while I go to the toilet.”_ _

_ _ She shot Dorcas a look to tell her that she wasn’t _really_ mad at her, and Dorcas nodded subtly back as Lyra picked her way through the beer cans, scattered cushions and wrapping paper and slipped away._ _

_ _ Once she was out of the room, the protests began again, with Marlene jumping off Sirius’ lap to throw a pillow at Mason’s head angrily._ _

_ _ “Ask her OUT you _git_!” she hissed, “Or I’ll ask her for you!”_ _

_ _ Peter peered around Marlene to nod, “I kind of agree, why haven’t you asked her already?”_ _

_ _ “And I should know who’s snogging my sister!” Sirius added, outraged._ _

_ _ Mason pointed a finger at him, “Are you trying to tell me you’re not going to shag my sister tonight?”_ _

_ _ Sirius fell back with a grumble, James sniggered at him._ _

_ _ “But your resolution!” Marlene whined. “Guys, his resolution is to ask her out this year!”_ _

_ _ “There you go!” Lily grinned, “Get it done on day two! It’s like a birthday gift on top of that!”_ _

_ _ Mason groaned and tipped his head back, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to work out how to explain this to his friends. He did want to ask her out – he thought about it daily, hourly, even – but the ‘what if’s were fairly overwhelming. Did they really think he’d been sat all night unbothered? Did they really think he hadn’t wanted to die when he’d seen her walk in, when he’d seen her little skirt and her tight top, when she’d sat next to him and he was sure he could feel her outline on the sofa next to him and her eyes burning into him?_ _

_ _ “It’s not that simple,” he went with, voice weak._ _

_ _ “Yeah it is,” Dorcas said bluntly, “You go and find her now, you ask her out, she says yes and then we all look the other way when you vanish upstairs for an hour or so.”_ _

_ _ “Dorcas,” Lily wrinkled her nose, “Only an hour?”_ _

_ _ Dorcas hooted with laughter._ _

_ _ “Guys, seriously, you think I’ve not debated this?” Mason sighed, straightening up and swilling the last of his drink around before draining it. “It just wouldn’t work. With the Auror stuff, and the Order too, she’s got her own problems on top of that,” Mason mumbled, realising with horror that Sirius might not be aware of his brother’s current position even if Lyra was. “We’re friends right now, good friends, and I think it should stay that way.”_ _

_ _ “Bull. Shit.” Lily got up and shifted Harry onto her hip. “James, back me up here?”_ _

_ _ “Yeah, she’s right, that’s absolute shite, mate,” James shrugged. “Why? Why should it stay that way?”_ _

_ _ Mason laughed nervously. He wasn’t sure how to explain that Lyra was the only person who was aware of how much he was struggling and who had seen him freak out, come into the office on no sleep or agreed to tell him when he was being paranoid at work. Over the few months since their kiss, it hadn’t come up again: he’d been on that disastrous date with Jon, they’d both settled into a routine and had completed so many more missions together that they moved automatically when they duelled. They had inside jokes, she teased him about his caffeine addiction and he mocked her whenever she accidentally did some weird habit she’d learned from her parents, he looked forward to work even if the work itself was horrible and depressing and upsetting because he knew she’d be there with a practical outlook and some shitty baking her and Dorcas had attempted the night before. He liked her a lot – not just because he was attracted to her, not just because he wanted to date her, he just _liked_ her and enjoyed being around her. And if he asked her out and she didn’t feel the same way, or if she did and it went horribly wrong, he’d lose that. And he really didn’t want to lose that._ _

_ _ “It’s too risky,” he said after a long pause. “I don’t want to lose her as a friend, okay?”_ _

_ _ Lily shot a soft look across the room to her husband and then looked back at Mason, her emerald eyes warm. “If it’s a relationship that’s meant to last, you don’t lose them as a friend by telling them how you feel.”_ _

_ _ “Precisely,” James concurred, “You just also get to have sex with your best friend!”_ _

_ _ “Way to ruin a moment, sweetheart,” Lily tutted._ _

_ _ “James, I dunno who you’re talking about because we’ve not been having sex?” Sirius frowned. “Marlene isn’t into that.”_ _

_ _ “Jesus Christ, guys,” Dorcas sniggered, glancing at Mason who was suppressing laughter. “You killed it.”_ _

_ _ “James is an idiot, but he’s right,” Marlene added, playing with one of Sirius’ messy curls affectionately. “It’s never a bad thing to combine sex and friendship.”_ _

_ _ In a surprisingly tender moment, Sirius tugged her closer and kissed her with a grin, making her giggle._ _

_ _ “Gross,” Mason muttered._ _

_ _ “Gross but for once they’re right, I mean it, Mase,” Lily laughed, smoothing Harry’s tufty hair down. “Especially these days. It’s hard enough as it is without denying yourself that much happiness.”_ _

_ _ “I’m gonna be gross and cute and cheesy and just say it,” Dorcas said, draining her beer. “She likes you, you twat, and I’ve told you this! She’s told me! She thinks about you! You’d not be turned down! And believe me, I give her the same advice as this, so this is absolutely not just one-sided lecturing.”_ _

_ _ “That’s what you call cute?” Mason snorted._ _

_ _ Dorcas gave him a look. “You know what I mean!”_ _

_ _ He sighed. “I do, and thank you guys, I know I _should_ do it, it’s just hard.”_ _

_ _ “But well worth it, I promise,” Lily chuckled, “Now I’m going to find the girl in question and put this little rascal to bed. Say goodnight, Harry!”_ _

_ _ Harry gurgled and clapped his hands together happily at the sound of his name and everyone chorused their goodnights back to the baby, Marlene blowing kisses from where she was now curled up on Sirius’ lap, his hand brushing her side gently. Lily laughed, her long hair shifting back over her shoulder as she slipped away to put her son to bed, giving Mason a final stern look as she exited._ _

_ _ Mason chuckled and opened the can that Peter tossed to him, deciding that he definitely did need another drink after that conversation._ _

_ _ Lily had clearly passed Lyra in the hallway and checked on her because Lyra reappeared, fussing with her hair and twisting it into a messy bun for something to do with her hands, picking up her glass again and dropping into the space by Mason that was still free. She flashed him a little smile, the cold air outside having cleared her head enough that she felt she could get through the rest of the evening without saying or doing something ridiculous._ _

_ _ “So I take it truth or dare is over?” Marlene grinned, winking at Mason._ _

_ _ Lyra laughed, “I don’t think I was very good at it, so that might be for the best.”_ _

_ _ “Next time,” Peter grinned, “It’s tradition at this point.”_ _

_ _ “Speaking of tradition, we’re going to head out,” Sirius said, lifting Marlene up and standing up to stretch._ _

_ _ “How is that tradition?” Lyra frowned._ _

_ _ Dorcas rolled her eyes. “Sirius and Marlene inevitably leave parties early to go and have sex, at least this time they’re not sneaking and pretending we don’t know they’re doing it.”_ _

_ _ Marlene and Sirius both protested weakly as the others laughed, but they could hardly deny it._ _

_ _ “Just go home and do it, don’t wake the baby,” James sniggered, pushing his glasses up his nose lazily._ _

_ _ “Noted, Prongs,” Sirius grinned, tugging Marlene towards the door as Dorcas stole the armchair they’d been seated in so she didn’t have to sit on the floor._ _

_ _ Everyone chorused their goodnights to the couple and Marlene kissed Mason’s cheek quickly as they hurried past, wishing him a good end to his birthday before they vanished, Marlene laughing loudly at something (most likely inappropriate) that Sirius had said._ _

_ _ “God, I wish that were me,” Dorcas grinned, “Raise a glass to those of us not having regular sex.”_ _

_ _ Peter, Lyra and Mason all lifted their glasses with a laugh, joining Dorcas in a mock moment of silence._ _

_ _  
“Can’t relate,” James sighed dramatically_ _

“WE GET IT!” Dorcas groaned, “You’re infuriating. I’m so glad I wasn’t friends with you guys when you first got together.”

“It was horrific,” Peter agreed, “It was honestly worse than Padfoot and Marlene have ever been, there was so much built up tension that we thought Gryffindor tower was going to collapse from shock when they finally got together.”

Lyra smiled at James as she leaned forwards and tentatively took a beer, deciding she wanted to try some even if she didn’t get drunk. “How _did_ you guys get together? I always heard you hated each other.”

“Nah, they didn’t,” Mason chuckled, “It was… dislike. They just didn’t understand each other for a long time.”

James’ expression turned soft. “Whenever I remember that I get to be her husband, it blows my mind. Sixth year James would never have believed it!”

Peter and James trailed off into reminiscing about their last year at Hogwarts as Mason leaned over to Lyra, who was about to take a tip of the can.

“Are you actually drinking? Please don’t feel you have to just because we are! We’re not even that drunk! I’m barely tipsy!”

Lyra snorted, “You’re more drunk than you think you are, Mason, I promise you that. And no, honestly, I don’t feel I have to. I just… want to.”

“A first, surely?”

“Kind of,” she smiled, tucking her legs under herself and glancing down at the Muggle beer. “I guess I always thought it was a bad thing. People got shouty or aggressive when they were drunk and I guess I assumed it was the drink not the person. You guys just get… sleepy and affectionate when you’re drinking, which is much nicer. I’d like that.”

“Well then I’m glad,” Mason grinned, “And I’m very curious as to what you think of it.”

Lyra wrinkled her nose up at him and took a tiny, tentative sip. She swallowed and then grimaced, trying to clear her mouth of the taste.

“Oh Merlin, that’s _awful_! Why do you guys drink this stuff?!”

Mason laughed loudly, pulling himself up off the sofa and offering her his hand. “Come on, we’ll go and raid their alcohol cupboard and find something you like.”

Lyra placed the beer on the edge of the coffee table and took his hand gratefully, following him away from their friends and into the kitchen just off the living room. The peace and quiet and the cooler temperature calmed her nerves and her bare feet on the tiles warded off any heat that might’ve risen from being alone with him after everything that had gone down that evening.

Mason opened one of the cabinets and started looking through the bottles there, inspecting some of the labels with a little frown as she hopped up onto the side to watch him, crossing her legs at her ankles and tipped her head to the side. They weren’t out of view of their friends – the whole downstairs of the Potters’ house was open plan – but the lights were off in the kitchen and most of the chatter was inaudible so she felt much further away than she actually was. Examining him again, she smiled softly, amused by his previous insistence that he wasn’t drunk when it was obvious that he was well on his way.

“Aha! Gin! Knew they’d have some somewhere. I bet you’d like this, let me see,” he said triumphantly, grabbing a glass from the shelf and pouring her a small measure and topping it up with the Schloer from before, handing it to her with a grin.

She sniffed it curiously and then took a sip, pausing to work out whether she liked it. “Well it’s better than the beer, that’s for sure. I can’t really taste the alcohol.”

“Nah, I didn’t put much in, if you’ve never really drank or haven’t in ages it’s not going to take much to have an effect,” he chuckled, leaning against the counter opposite her.

Lyra laughed and nodded, “I’m definitely a lightweight, that’s for sure.”

Mason laughed too and didn’t even notice as Lily came back into the room. “I think seeing you drunk would be really funny.”

“Nah, the time I was closest to being drunk I was just really tired and wanted to nap,” Lyra laughed. “It’d be very boring, I promise.”

Lily slipped over to the others still in the living room and James pulled her down next to him and kissed her softly.

“Where are Mason and Lyra?” Lily asked, glancing around.

Peter pointed through to the kitchen, where the pair were still chatting, Lyra sipping her drink happily. Giggling, Lily leaned back against James’ chest and rolled her eyes.

“He’s such an idiot. Look at them now and tell me she’d say no if he asked her out!”

“They’re adorable,” Peter agreed.

James wrapped his arms around his wife and yawned. “They are. And oblivious. Wonder who out of their friends has some experience in that? Can’t think.”

She nudged him with a laugh, “Let’s cut them some slack. Ours was a long time coming, I don’t think either of them expected this.”

“I wonder if he really thinks they’ll stay just friends?” Peter mused.

“Well he’s not looking at her like I look at my friends, let’s put it that way,” James smirked.

Dorcas had stayed quiet, watching Lyra and Mason softly. “She’s not either. I know she knows she fancies him, but I don’t know if she realises quite how much. I don’t think she’s ever really entertained her feelings like this before. She’s basically been chained to Avery her entire life.”

“And I don’t know anyone more deserving of this than Mason,” James added darkly, “It doesn’t take a genius to see he’s been spiralling. I worry about him.”

Lily shook her head. “None of that, please? Not tonight. Look, he’s happy, we’re happy, I’m having a lot of fun watching them flirt, I don’t want to think about anything else just now.”

James muttered an apology and kissed her hair.

Lyra must’ve felt the eyes on them, because she finally looked away from Mason and blushed, quickly hopping back down off the counter and slipping back over to the others who quickly started another conversation to avoid being caught discussing the couple, leaving Mason in the dark in the other room watching them and taking a minute to compose his thoughts.

The last few birthdays since leaving Hogwarts had always felt hollow. He’d either been needed at work, hadn’t had the energy to try and celebrate or not enough of his friends had been free around the right time but this year everything seemed to have fallen into place and he was eternally grateful: sure, Remus hadn’t been able to make it, being busy with something he’d not really explained; sure, he had work in the morning and there would no doubt be something depressing to read the moment he got in; sure, he hadn’t said anything to Lyra about how he felt yet, but he knew he would soon; he’d had a night free of the paranoia and fear that seemed to follow him these days and he’d seen his friends and got to talk to Lyra outside of work and that was more than he could’ve possibly asked for. He knew he would go home and actually sleep, too.

And so when he rejoined them for the last hour of his birthday, he felt, for once, completely content.


	11. January 1981

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder: this chapter contains mentions of a past abusive relationship. Nothing is described in detail, it's not a long passage, but it is there. If this is something that would upset you, feel free to skip from the start to the line "Take what to Moody?". I'll summarise quickly at the end!  
Hope everyone is safe and well in these weird times x

_14th January 1981_

_Dear Lyra,_

_It’s been two weeks since I wrote to you last to see how you were doing and to let you know how Regulus was getting on with his new career path. You didn’t reply to me, and I thought it rather rude of you._

_I’ve heard some uncomfortable things about you since my letter, too: apparently you’ve been flirting with the McKinnon boy, the Blood Traitor who’s part of the Order of the Phoenix. I’ve also heard nasty rumours that you were considering joining the so-called Order too and, Lyra, I really wouldn’t like that. That would be unforgiveable, you know it would. To turn your back on your family and your way of life – as well as on me – for a traitor… I just can’t see that going well for you, sweetheart, and as much as I’d want to protect you, the Dark Lord would no doubt overrule me._

_Despite everything, you know if you come back now that I would make sure you were safe. The people you’ve chosen to associate with are hardly winning this fight – surely you’ve heard about the Prewett twins by now – and you’d be so much safer back home with me and your parents. _

_You don’t have long to make your choice, Lyra, there are plans in motion that I can’t write about but that I want to warn you of. Please, think about it carefully._

_I’ll see you soon, I’m sure._

_Yours lovingly,_

_Robert_

* * *

“I feel sick,” Lyra whispered, watching Mason with wide eyes as he dropped the letter back onto the desk and glanced at her. “It’s not got an address on it, someone left it here, not like the first one. Someone in the Ministry dropped this off, they were in this room,” she whispered, covering her mouth with shaking hands, her eyes darting to the door.

“I’ll take it to Moody right away, we have security measures around the level, we’ll scan all the wards for anything we can get, okay? They – whether it’s him or someone else – are not going to get close to you.”

“It’s not my physical safety I’m concerned about, Mason,” she protested, “You read the same letter, he won’t hurt me – not in that sense, anyway.”

Mason’s scowl deepened at the implication that Avery would hurt her without physical violence because that scared him more. “He’s not going to manage to do either,” he said fiercely.

“I know that, I’m not going to go anywhere near him – I’m certainly not going to go home,” she promised, taking his hand and squeezing it quickly to reassure him. “But I am concerned that someone with Death Eater connections is getting into the Ministry and into our rooms.”

“There are plenty of people connected to the Death Eaters within the Ministry,” Mason said tiredly, rubbing his temples as he watched her, trying to draw comfort from the fact that, while she was still shaking slightly, her eyes were determined: if she was feeling strong, he could be strong too. “We’ve tried and tried to root them out but we just can’t.”

“I guess,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself.

There was a brief moment of silence as Mason slumped into his chair, still facing her as she perched on the edge of the desk.

“I’m sorry again about Gideon and Fabian, I’m sorry he even _wrote_ their names, he should keep their names out of his mouth,” she whispered.

The twins had been killed just three days ago in a surprise attack. Moody had been there, but Mason hadn’t and Lyra knew he was still processing that guilt even if there was nothing he could’ve done. The Order had been taking more hits recently, sure, and in these times everyone knew what death felt like, but it was different now, there was something dark and cloying in the air and the loss hovered over them all.

Lyra still hadn’t formally joined the group – she still wasn’t sure how she felt about it, and suspected that Moody was the only leader who trusted her – but knowing everyone she loved was involved meant she was tied to the Order’s fate whether she wanted to be or not and knowing that Avery knew that and was watching terrified her.

Mason took a long time to answer, but he managed a smile and watched her for a moment. “It’s not your fault, you know?”

Lyra blinked at him. “What isn’t?”

“That Avery’s doing this. I can see it written on your face, you’re blaming yourself.”

“Well… well of course I am, he wouldn’t be sending these letters if it wasn’t for me,” she shrugged. “And you wouldn’t have to read them if I didn’t show them to you.”

“Aside from the fact that not showing me them would worry me more,” Mason snorted, “It’s still not your fault that he can’t let this go. It’s not your fault he’s deciding to torment you with this shit.”

“He mentioned you by name, Mason, that worries me more than anything!” she hissed, “If he knows – if he thinks something is going on, I won’t add another target on your back!”

Mason actually laughed at that and shook his head. “He doesn’t scare me, Ly.”

“He should.”

He shot her another look – she’d never told anyone what had really gone down between her and Avery before she’d left.

“He doesn’t scare me because everything he’s implying – that you’ll go back to him, that he’ll hurt you or people you care about, that he’s coming for you – is nonsense, and I know it’s nonsense,” he smiled. “Robert Avery being mad that he got stood up isn’t going to add anything to my problems that doesn’t already exist.”

“That’s hardly reassuring,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes.

Mason smiled wider. “So typical me then?”

“True,” she snorted, picking up the letter again and avoiding looking at the last few lines. “We should take this to Moody, he’ll want to see it. There’s something about the wording that makes my skin crawl.”

“Take what to Moody?” a gruff voice from by the door said.

Mason glanced up quickly, then remembered that nothing they were discussing or doing was against the rules and he relaxed again. Moody raised an eyebrow slightly at his reaction but said nothing as Lyra slipped down off the desk and handed him the parchment.

He scanned it quickly, his magical eye whirring furiously as it focussed in on the careful handwriting.

“Well fuck me, Black, this is a fun letter,” he muttered, handing it back to her. “I may need that back later for evidence if we want to find who delivered it so please don’t burn it, as tempting as that might be.”

Lyra snorted slightly and then slid the roll of paper into the top drawer to keep it safe.

“You okay?” Moody added, normal eye on her, magical eye on Mason. “Can’t imagine that was particularly enjoyable to get.”

Lyra shrugged and managed a smile. “I’m alright, it’s just a letter.”

“And I _just_ lost a leg,” Moody smirked slightly, “Don’t play it down. You’re allowed to have emotions here.”

“News to me,” Mason joked, folding his arms across his chest.

Moody chuckled at him and jabbed his finger jokingly. “Watch it, boy. She gets special treatment.”

Mason just grinned and shrugged, “I knew you a favourite but I'm hurt it's not me.”

Moody’s smile lasted for another moment before his expression fell back to his usual gruff determination. “I wish I could say I was here with only good news, Lyra.”

She eyed the man nervously. “Why do I have a feeling I know what you’re talking about?”

The Auror grunted and shrugged apologetically. “Avery Junior might be a bastard, but he’s not a liar, apparently. We’ve… we’ve spotted Regulus in Death Eater robes. A wizard called it in this morning, his description of the man matches your brother, and there’s no one else it could be. I’m sorry, girl.”

Lyra slowly sucked in a deep breath and managed a tight smile, feeling like her muscles were straining with the effort. She’d known it would be true – like Moody said, Robert wasn’t a liar and if he’d told her Regulus was a Death Eater then Regulus was a Death Eater. Both of her brothers had been set on their paths a long time ago and always, _always_, on the opposite ones to each other; if Sirius was an Order member, it had only been a matter of time before Regulus joined the Dark Lord. As always, she was the one swimming in shades of grey.

“Nothing to be sorry for, sir, it’s hardly your doing.”

“Even so, today seems like a shitty day for news,” he sighed, watching her with something close to softness in his eyes. “I’ve asked Longbottom and Meadowes to check it out and try and get some more evidence either way, so there’s still hope.”

“Surprisingly optimistic for you, sir,” Lyra smiled, shrugging as if to say she highly doubted there was hope. “How very out of character.”

Moody chuckled and rolled his eyes. “I should never have paired the two of you up, you know exactly where to prod me.”

Mason snorted, “It’s why you love us, sir.”

“Merlin, boy, don’t say the l-word around me,” Moody said, scandalised. “I’m a war hardened Auror from a long line of Aurors. No room for that sort of nonsense here.”

“If you say so, sir,” Mason said breezily, hoping to lighten the mood even slightly because Lyra looked on the verge of tears again despite her clenched jaw.

“But I didn’t come here to just be the bearer of bad news,” Moody said, waving him off and turning squarely to Lyra again, who looked up, startled. “I came here to speak to you. Graduation is just a few days away now-“

“Don’t remind me, I’m terrified,” she laughed, shaking her head and trying to clear it of thoughts of her brother.

“You have no need to be, you can’t exactly fail this part, can you? And as far as I can see, and as far as McKinnon has been telling me, there’s no reason you’re going to be anything other than an exemplary Auror.”

Lyra blushed slightly, “Thank you, sir.”

“Do you remember when you first came to see me, last summer?”

She glanced across at Mason, not sure how much Moody had said to him before. She didn’t mind him knowing, but she didn’t want anything else to fuel his already heavy protectiveness. “I do.”

Mason glanced between them both, trying to read between the lines.

“Do you remember what I said to you?”

“That I looked like a walking skeleton, what did they feed us at Hogwarts these days?” Lyra offered.

Moody laughed. “True, I did. But I meant more when I told you that I wouldn’t go easy on you if I let you in early, that you’d still have to earn your spot here.” He paused and his expression softened again into something close to affection – Mason had never seen it before. “I think you managed that, my girl.”

Lyra’s eyes sparkled with delight at the compliment. “Thank you. I mean it. You have no idea how much this… saved me.”

“I spoke with Professor Dumbledore recently,” Moody continued, “He informed me that, on my recommendation, if you wanted to join _you-know-what_ then he would no longer have any issues with that – he’d be happy to have you on board.”

Lyra flushed gratefully at the implication that she had proved herself to be trustworthy enough that the Headmaster no longer had any suspicions about her, but she still wasn’t sure how she felt about the Order. At the end of the day, there was no longer much distinction between the Aurors and the Order now that the Aurors could also use the Unforgivables and shoot to kill; add that to the fact that the Aurors were against the ‘Dark Lord’ by their very nature, so she was already a target, joining the Order would double the threat to her life. But, and this made it an impossible decision, being an Order member meant she would at least know what was happening when Dorcas, Sirius or the others darted off at random times.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it, thank you,” she said after a moment, smiling at the Head Auror quickly.

“Good,” Moody smiled back, nodding sharply. “No rush, girl, just wanted to let you know. Your choice all the way.”

“Understood,” she laughed, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Mason shifted on the table and refolded his arms, eyes trained on Lyra as they so often were.

“Right, can’t stay to chat any longer, there’s a goddamn pile of paper on my desk and I’d really love to not look at it but it’s calling me,” Moody huffed, picking the cane up from against the wall.

“Good luck with that,” Mason chuckled, glancing back at his boss and shrugging. “We’ve got our own shit to do, I guess.”

“I’d guess so too, boy,” Moody warned jokingly, heading for the door. “Watch your fucking language.”

Lyra giggled as Moody shut the door and limped away and Mason’s grin grew even wider at the sound. It wasn’t that she never laughed – since September she’d only become quicker to joke, especially around him and Dorcas – but that particular giggle, that _particular_ delighted noise like she couldn't quite believe people were joking around her, was something he’d only heard a handful of times and it did something to him. Not in a sexual way, although that was a nice thought too, but just in a way that made his heart skip a beat and his emotions smooth out to happiness because it was such a _beautiful_ sound.

“What?” she asked, tipping her head to the side and trying to read his expression – he could practically see the calculations she was trying to do to understand him.

He shook himself out of it quickly and cleared his throat. “Nothing, promise.”

She suppressed a wider smile and shrugged. “Sure. What do we need to do today then boss?”

Mason could tell from the slope of her shoulders that the last thing on her mind was the news of her brother and he wanted to thank Moody personally for distracting her. “We’ve not got anything exciting to do, we need to catch up on paperwork. I honestly think Moody is doing it on purpose, we’ve barely left the office since I’ve gotten back from holiday.”

Lyra shrugged innocently but knew it was because she’d asked Moody to keep them on desk duty as much as possible so Mason didn’t implode the moment he got back to work. “I don’t know, I kind of don’t mind.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, rifling through the forms at the top of the pile. “Uh, do you know where the copy room is?”

“No, what even is that?” she laughed.

“Eighth floor, off the main atrium, there’s a room full of the self-writing quills, if you give them forms they’ll make the copies of them,” Mason explained. “The other side to the lifts, do you know where I mean?”

“I think so,” she shrugged, holding her hands out for the papers. “How many do you need?”

“Uhhh, just a few of each, I reckon. Like… five, maybe? It’s a trek so I don’t want you having to go back down again if we can help it,” he smiled, doublechecking what he was giving to her and then handing the wad of paper over.

Lyra nodded, checking them all and then grabbing her wand off the table automatically, tucking it in to her robes and running her hand through her hair as she read the titles of the forms quickly. “And I just put the form next to the quills?”

Mason nodded, trying to tidy the desk so they could actually do some work when she got back. “Yeah, it’s super easy, blank parchment underneath, form next to them, switch out the parchment when it’s finished to get the next one going.”

“Groovy,” she nodded, smiling. “Won’t be long!”

Mason grinned at the word (she must've picked it up from Marlene) and tossed a screwed-up ball of parchment towards the bin by the other wall. It was about to miss the metal basket so Lyra flicked her wrist quickly to change its course and it landed squarely on top of the rest of the discarded notes.

Mason laughed loudly and she winked at him cheekily as she slipped out and shut the door with a quiet click.

* * *

Clutching the files, Lyra headed through the office, throwing a quick glance at Dorcas’ currently empty desk – her flatmate was away on an Order mission and would be out of contact for another day at least, Dorcas had explained – as she headed out and waited for the rickety lift to trundle down from the second floor to the Atrium on the eighth, one of the lowest in the whole Ministry even if the whole place was underground already.

This level, apart from at nine in the morning or six at night, was pretty much deserted. A few people, like the Aurors who worked weird shifts, were Flooing or apparating in and out, but there were no offices here, just the miscellaneous things like the copy room or old record rooms full of files no longer needed but that couldn’t be destroyed.

The peace and quiet was nice, actually, and she hummed slightly under her breath as she wandered around trying to find the room Mason had meant. The sound of people arriving went quiet as she turned down the right corridor, spotted the copy room sign and grinned; heading inside, she snorted slightly at the odd sight of all the quills hovering ready to do their jobs – clearly no one else was waiting on anything – and set about lining up the parchment she needed.

As the scratching of the quills beginning to write filled the silence around her, she felt a strange _twist_ in her stomach, rippling through her and then the room. Lyra froze. There was no one around, but she found herself speaking out loud anyway.

“What was that?”

The feathers of the quills seemed to shiver.

She sucked in a deep breath as the tremor changed to something else, the feeling in her gut shifting to an almost hollow, empty feeling; something that had been there, something invisible nearby, was gone. Silence fell again but it felt different this time, and she realised that her chest was rising and falling far too quickly and there was nothing she could do when it felt like her whole body was reacting to whatever change had just happened.

Then came the painfully familiar echoing crack of apparition, confirming her gut reaction - the magical barriers that protected the building were gone. They’d gone and every inch of her body seemed to know it instinctively. More cracks followed as she covered her mouth with her hands in horror, staring blankly at the wall and backing away from the door, trembling with the realisation that she was no longer alone – or safe – on this floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you skipped the first section, you didn't miss much. Lyra gets a letter from Avery threatening her/Mason/her friends, telling her that Regulus is now a Death Eater and taunting her about the death Gideon and Fabian Prewett. She's shaken but she's okay. Mason wants to protect her but she reassures him she's okay. They decide to show the letter to Moody as it being delivered means a Death Eater has access to the Auror offices.


	12. January 1981

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know me irl be warned you'll never be able to look me in the eye again after this chapter

There were no alarms. There was no warning. Lyra just heard a terrified scream echoing off the walls of the atrium and a flash of light that seemed to travel down the corridor to where she had crept out of the copy room.

Her wand was out in an instant, clutched tightly in her shaking hand. Another scream and then the low rumble of feet before there was the horrific sound of tiles shattering and walls exploding. She fell to the floor as the force of it shuddered through the whole Ministry, the lights overhead flickering before going out.

“Death Eaters,” she breathed, her heart rate rocketing as she pulled herself up again, wincing at the pain in her side. She looked around for someone else who could help, but her chest tightened as she realised that they had picked their target well – she was in the admin section of the only floor with no offices and only a few workers passing through and, crucially, all the Aurors available on the other side of the building. With apparition impossible within the Ministry, she would definitely be the first responder.

As an intern, she wasn’t really supposed to do anything like this without her supervisor here – Mason, her heart pounded with fear, he didn’t even know what was going on yet – but she also knew protocol was going to have to wait. She was here and she would have to do. Breathing as quietly as she could, she slipped down the corridor towards the main atrium and stopped just around the corner. She snatched one of the magical paper aeroplanes out of the air and fumbled in her pocket for her quill, scribbling out the original message and scrawling a warning to Moody on the back, instructing the plane to go the back way upstairs and to go as fast as it could. She watched the violet aeroplane dart off nervously in the opposite direction to its previous path. She just hoped that it arrived soon and that back up would be sent before this got too bad.

Clearly her muttering hadn’t been quiet enough, because not a second later a curse came barrelling around the corner of the corridor and she jumped back. It had been thrown wildly and she avoided it easily but she didn’t send anything back: she was a good dueller, but engaging an unknown amount of Death Eaters in an open area was suicide and she didn’t plan on dying like this. Quickly making herself invisible, she leaned around the corner, trying to assess the situation. A rapid head count revealed at least twenty Death Eaters and several bodies on the floor already, the water from the fountain flooding across the room as the edges of the fountain lay in pieces around the room. Her heart broke for the people already dead and she held back a sob, her head spinning frantically.

“Spread out. Kill as you like, bring any Blood Traitors back here, same for any members of the Order of the Phoenix, wouldn’t say no to Alastor Moody either, the prick,” someone snarled. “And whoever was around that corner – bring them to me too.”

The Order of the Phoenix? Shit. Shit fuck _fuck shit_. She squeezed her eyes shut and, casting a silencing spell on her feet, quickly fled back down the corridor as fast as she could go. She ended the invisibility spell so as not to drain her magic too quickly and turned to check behind her as she rounded a corner. The alarm had now been raised properly at the realisation that the protective spells had been shredded even if it had been a slow realisation and she could hear commotion from people other than the attackers as the evacuation procedure began, the sirens wailing like banshees down the corridors, reverberating off the high ceilings and bouncing up and down the stairwells. She sucked in a deep lungful of air, knowing that meant the Auror department would be mobilised and help was on its way, and she was still allowing that hope to buoy her as she ran straight into a figure cloaked in black.

They reacted faster than she could and grabbed her, throwing her across the corridor hard but she hauled herself up instinctively with a cry and threw up a protego to cover herself from anything they threw while she recovered. It clearly wasn’t a Ministry worker in front of her – the silver-grey mask and the midnight black robes proved it, as did the maniacal laugh coming from them. Lyra gritted her teeth and threw her first hex, allowing her anger to fuel the spell. The Death Eater hit the wall so violently that their body cracked the tiles and they slumped to the floor, unconscious. The Unforgiveable was on her lips – she wanted them to die so badly for what they had already done and for what they would try to do now – but she just snarled instead, snapped their wand clean in two and conjured ropes to wrap themselves around the unmoving body tightly. It was the first time she’d been in a position to use the killing curse she was now qualified to use, but her rage cooled once the danger had passed so she swallowed the impulse and shook her head angrily to clear it.

She removed their mask but didn’t recognise the face so she just committed it to memory and moved on, forcing herself to steady her breathing in preparation for what would surely be the next fight. Lyra reached the balcony around the atrium easily, and now there were other people who the Ministry had deemed able to fight starting to gather in the corridors, trying to prevent the Death Eaters from gaining access to other levels of the Ministry but none were Aurors yet, there were no distinctive silver edged robes and more importantly, no Mason. All of her panic would be gone if he was here, she knew that, even if it put him in danger. She didn’t know whether she should feel guilty for that.

“Hey you, girl, are you an Auror?”

Of course, she was also wearing the silver robes.

She turned back around and tried to look more confident than she felt – she couldn’t tell them that this was her first proper battle or the panic would only spread. “Yes, I am. An intern, but I am an Auror.”

“Better than I’d be, I’m sure,” the middle-aged man said sympathetically. “What do you want us to do?”

“I – I can give you orders?” she blinked.

“Well, not normally, but in this circumstance, I think you’re our best bet at organisation.”

Lyra hesitated, trying to roll through the scenarios they’d gone through in training. This was nothing like any of them, and she could almost feel the location of the bodies on the floor below her reducing any chance of logical thought to dust.

“The alarm has been raised, so the bulk of the Aurors will be on their way now. We only need to secure the area for a few minutes until they arrive to deal with the Death Eaters. I don’t want any of you hurt, okay?” she smiled tightly. “Just focus on blocking the corridors, either with office stuff or with the debris, moving it into place, making sure everywhere is clear and that anyone who needs to be evacuated has done so. They're not here for our Quidditch reports, they want people dead so denying them that is our main priority. If you can pass that message on, just get everyone on board. Try to avoid engaging with them head on, if you have to fall back to avoid a duel then do it, no insult to anyone at all but we’d just really like to keep non-Auror casualties to a minimum.”

The man nodded and tipped his dusty hat at her with a forced smile. “Right you are, Miss. You hear that, you lot? Pass the message around and we’ll do what we can.”

She nodded robotically, turning to look back at the foyer where plenty of Death Eaters were still milling around, preparing to move out.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” she said faintly.

“Too young,” he said quietly, “Same as my daughter. You keep yourself safe, you hear me? Curse this accelerated programme.”

“I'll try,” Lyra smiled back at him over her shoulder before she slipped further around the balcony and crept down the steps.

She was running out of time – the Death Eaters were already spreading out far too far and another group looked set to leave the main area – and she knew she was going to have to get into another duel to keep them away from the Ministry workers in the corridors leading to the other levels. Did she make the first move or watch for as long as she could?

Her decision was quickly made for her.

One of the masked men (it had to be a man this time, the build was unmistakable) fired a scorching red curse towards her, setting fire to the edge of her robes and quickly forcing her to abandon the outer robe as she didn't have time to put it out. Sticking behind the fallen chunk of the statue for cover, she focussed on where the people in the room were and started to fire back, letting intuition lead her wand in the right direction. The man fell to a forceful stunning spell but another quickly replaced him and she swore as the golden head of the centaur that had been protecting her was shattered, one shard cutting straight through her sleeve and gashing her arm. Luckily it was her non-wand arm and so she just retreated to the other side of the fountain with a muffled scream, her hand clamping over the cut, realising with a large wave of panic that it was now three on one and there was still no sign of the Aurors. Trying to gain the upper hand, she shifted to non-verbal spells and it did help momentarily, forcing one Death Eater’s wand out of his hand. He quickly replaced it with one from a fallen civilian but as it wasn’t his, the spells were noticeably less powerful and she felt some of the pressure ease as she moved out from behind the fountain to duel in earnest.

“Wait.”

She turned her head sharply, her hair flying around her face as she locked eyes with the man striding in from the main corridor. The Death Eaters around her slowed down, and she used the chance to dispatch another one, the hex hitting him squarely in the chest.

“Little Lyra,” Robert Avery said, his mask gone, his blonde hair shining under the lights.

She felt the fight rush out of her like the tide receding all at once and she levelled her wand at him shakily.

“I see you’ve been practising. Your mother told me where you’d gone, but I was most aggrieved to hear that you ended our engagement. Just think, we could’ve been married by now. I trust you got my letters? I told you I’d see you soon.”

“I’d rather be dead than married to you,” she snapped.

“That’s no way to talk to me!” he tutted, “Honestly, your manners were always going to need some _breaking in_ but it’s so sad to see how quickly you’ve gone downhill since leaving us. Where are your little Auror friends now? Where’s the McKinnon boy? I hope he’s not been touching _my property_.”

“I don’t need them,” she said through gritted teeth. “You just wait and see.”

“Oh Lyra, don’t fool yourself. I know if you come with me now, we can smooth out all you mistakes. You don’t have to do this. It’s always been you and me, sweetheart.”

Lyra laughed hysterically, replaying their years at school: the possessive glances and touches, the inevitability that she would marry him at some point, his sneer, his eagerness to ‘teach her a lesson’ and then, during the summer, the bruises on her wrists, the malicious insults; the night before she left for good when he’d dragged her upstairs away from the party and forced her into a bedroom and slapped her when she said no and she’d flung him into the wall and ran.

“It has _never_ been you and me,” she snarled, lashing out viciously and catching him off guard. “And it will _never be you and me_.”

Robert just laughed and raised his own wand, the Death Eaters that had backed off before coming back in full force and circling her.

“Last warning, my love.”

She spat towards him and fired a stunning spell outwards in all directions, not giving him any time to get a shot in before throwing herself into an attack. Every nerve in her body was alight with fury and despite that extra fuel, she knew that three on one wouldn’t last long now – she needed the Aurors more than ever.

Her lungs were burning for oxygen, her muscles felt drained but she kept going, moving as fast as she could. Her attack slowly but surely turned to defence, and she wanted to sob as she gripped her wand tighter, the blood from her cut slick against the wood, threatening to rid her of the one weapon she had.

She closed her eyes and fell back to _feeling_ where the magic was coming from, allowing her magic to recognise the familiar pinpricks of power around her, but as she did so, one of the sources flickered and vanished from her view. Panicked and suspecting foul play, she opened her eyes and turned to where the hole in the magic was to see the Aurors flooding into the Atrium, the Death Eaters forced to give up ground with every spell being cast. She couldn’t drop her defence long enough to scan the room for the only person she wanted to see, but the realisation that she wasn’t alone gave her an extra surge of energy and she sent another masked figure collapsing to the floor tangled in vines that had sprouted from the end of her wand. It was now just her and Robert and he locked his eyes on hers, smirking wickedly in the way that always used to turn her blood cold.

“I could do this all day, darling, could you?” he called confidently but then anger flickered in his features and the smug smile dropped.

Lyra felt someone drop into place beside her, their stance mirroring hers perfectly.

“Turn around, defend my back, I’ve got him,” Mason said calmly.

“But-“

“I know, but you’re exhausted. I’ll deal with him, I promise. Watch my back, _I trust you_.”

She didn’t question him again and they switched places like they’d practised a thousand times, keeping the space around them free of Death Eaters as she felt the duel resume behind her, Mason shifting his body to keep her out of Robert’s line of sight at all times. Feeling the hot tears slipping down her cheeks with relief, she found herself struggling for breath as the panic she’d shoved down this whole time finally erupted, strangling her. She felt his hand brush her side trying to help however he could despite still duelling and she clutched on to it like a lifeline, barely keeping herself upright.

The sound of Robert’s laugh cut off suddenly and she blinked through her tears as Mason turned her around on the spot, hands flying to cup her cheeks and brushing the tears away softly, his lips moving soundlessly.

The unmoving form of Robert Avery lay on the floor behind him, blood trickling down from a cut on his forehead.

She stared past Mason at the body of the man she’d known for so long and then looked back up at him, her knees buckling as she realised it was over but Mason held her up easily. The sounds of duelling had died down and there was just a terrible wailing coming from the balcony, mixing with the ringing in her ears.

Mason was mouthing something but she couldn’t hear him, so she shook her head and gripped the front of his robes shakily.

“Ly? Can you hear me? How badly are you hurt?” he said frantically as he scanned her body, her ears slowly starting to pick up on things other than her own ragged breathing.

“Just the cut, it’s not deep,” she said, stumbling through the words. "Maybe my shoulder, I got thrown."

“Thank Merlin,” he breathed, pulling her against his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of her head as his hand closed over the cut – it had bled a lot but it was only a surface wound. He knew if she'd managed to duel, her shoulder couldn't have been too badly injured either. “When the note arrived, I nearly died, they shut off all the lifts just in case and you’ve never been able to apparate in here, we couldn’t get here any faster, I’m sorry, Lyra, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re here now,” she mumbled, keeping her face buried in his robes as she tried to compose herself.

She jumped at the very loud and very close crack of disapparation and they both jerked their heads up, watching as several Death Eaters around the atrium who had previously been unconscious – or pretending to be – stood up, grabbed whoever was closest and vanished. Mason dropped her and lunged forwards furiously as someone grabbed Avery’s hand but they were gone before he even got close and he lost it, cursing violently, hurling a chunk of rock at the ruins of the walls. How had this happened?

Moody, who had been standing by the crumbling fountain, jabbed his cane towards the ceiling and the apparition stopped, whatever wards the Death Eaters got around having been fixed quickly by someone behind the scenes, and the remaining Aurors quickly rounded up the last of the living Death Eaters to take them to cells before any more slipped through their fingers.

Lyra had retreated back into the safety of Mason’s arms and he complied, wrapping his arms around her tightly as if he could sense that he was the only thing keeping her standing. The pair watched apprehensively as Moody turned to them and limped over, the leg injury clearly giving him problems after the fighting.

“I’m not going to ask what’s going on here,” he said, gesturing between them and the tight embrace, “Because I’ve had my suspicions a while but frankly right now I don’t care. Lyra, your note gave us precious minutes of warning and I’m very grateful. We don’t know how much worse it would’ve been if they’d made it further into the Ministry. The alarm system is from a pre-war time and doesn’t have the quick thinking and cleverness that you have, clearly. You’re not hurt, are you?”

She shook her head dumbly as Mason cleared his throat. “A small cut, but it’s mostly shock I think, sir.”

“Thank Merlin. Get her to Mungo’s for a check-up, and get one for yourself, that’s an order. I wish you’d stop running into situations early, boy.”

Mason nodded tightly and pulled away from her as the uninjured Aurors got to work clearing the room and bringing down any casualties. She was still silent, eyes unfocussed, so he took her by the hand and led her to one of the fireplaces lining the Atrium.

“Hey, you sir,” someone called and Mason turned, seeing a Ministry worker hurrying over with a cloth held to his head. “Is she alright?”

Mason glanced down at Lyra and squeezed her hand. “She’s okay, but we’re going to make doubly sure anyway.”

“Good,” the man nodded, “Are you with her?”

“I’m her…” Friend felt wrong to say, especially after the dread that had speared his heart the moment that note from her arrived, and they were _well_ past ‘supervisor’. “Yeah, I’m with her.”

“You take good care of her, you understand? She’s a good one, she made sure we were all safe and then went straight down here to keep them away from us without a second thought. So you tell her we’re grateful, and get her a drink of something strong.”

Mason smiled and nodded, “I will, sir, thank you. I’ll tell her what you’ve told me.”

The man nodded approvingly and dabbed at the cut on his head gingerly. “Good good. Now get her out of here, young man.”

“Yes sir,” Mason chuckled, ducking his head to fit into the fireplace and Flooing them right into the St Mungo’s emergency ward, the fireplace having been linked to the Ministry for events like this.

The noise of the ward hit them both as they arrived and stumbled out onto the clean white floors and he felt Lyra flinch at the chaos so he wrapped his arms around her again and bundled her over to the desk.

“Is Marlene McKinnon on duty here?” he asked quickly. “Auror McKinnon, I’m sure you’ve been informed there was an attack at the Ministry, I’ve got Auror Black here and she needs to be checked over right away.” He ignored Moody’s instructions to get checked over himself, because there clearly wasn’t the time, especially if the hospital was about to be flooded with injured Ministry workers.

“Healer McKinnon is only in training, are you comforta-“

“Yes, yes, we’re comfortable with that, _please_, just as fast as you can?” he pleaded.

The Healer gave him a look for his rudeness but she seemed to consider the situation urgent enough not to reprimand him for it and pressed the magical pager on her desk and nodded to him. “Sit yourself over there, she won’t be long. Keep her warm in the meantime.”

Mason mumbled his thanks and sat Lyra down on one of the little waiting chairs in the corner, crouching in front of her. “Hey, look at me,” he said quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “You’re going to be okay. It’s done now, it’s over, and did you hear that guy? You were _incredible_. It was your first proper fight, and I should’ve been there, I’m so sorry that you were alone. You’re fully allowed to be in shock right now, but Lene is on her way and she’ll make sure you’re okay.”

Lyra nodded slightly and leaned her head on his shoulder, just wanting to sleep. He brushed her tangled hair gently until he heard the sound of someone approaching and lifted his head slightly.

“Hey, Mase,” Marlene smiled, her blonde hair dragged up into a very dishevelled bun and the bags under her eyes much bigger than last time he’d seen her.

“Busy day?”

“Don’t,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I heard you requested me.”

“I just think she could do with a familiar face,” he shrugged, “She was by herself when the attack hit, I think she’s in shock.”

“Okay well we can sort that out no problem,” Marlene said, as cheerfully as she could manage. “Follow me.”

Mason watched Lyra carefully as she pulled herself up and followed his sister, never straying further away from her than he could help.

Once they were in Marlene’s little cubicle, she sat Lyra on the edge of the bed and started finding the correct potions.

“And there’s just this little cut?” Marlene said, cutting the fabric away from the gash and grabbing a warm cloth. “Merlin, girl, you’ve got to be good for that,” she teased lightly, dabbing the disinfectant onto it carefully.

Mason chuckled weakly and leaned forwards on the plastic chair next to the bed, keeping his eyes on Lyra who hadn’t so much as flinched at the procedure when he knew full well she didn't like blood.

Marlene watched the pair of them as she finished cleaning and healing the cut, wrapping the blanket around Lyra’s shoulders and handing her the first potion.

“Okay, this is going to burn a little bit on the way down but it’ll help with any physical exertion, it's a fucker to take so it isn't normally given out but I feel like in this case that’ll be the best thing.”

Lyra swallowed it obediently, slightly pulling a face but otherwise barely reacting as Marlene gently took her temperature and checked her pulse.

“Okay, like you said, Mason, there’s nothing else really wrong with her, I just think she needs to lie down and get a hot drink in her – or something alcoholic, either would work,” she smiled. “Is Dorcas around?”

“Ah, no, Dorcas is away on a mission,” Mason sighed, “But she can stay at mine. Ly, is that okay?”

She’d barely registered what he’d said anyway so she just nodded and managed a little smile. Normally the thought of staying at his house would reduce her to a blushing wreck but right now she just felt like a _standard_ wreck.

“Alright,” Marlene smiled warmly, “I’ll give you another one of these potions and you know where to find me if, once she’s calmed down a bit, anything starts to hurt. Sometimes your body doesn’t realise it’s injured until a while afterwards. Adrenaline is a funny thing.”

“Thank you, Lene,” Mason said sincerely, kissing his sister’s cheek, “We’ll see you soon.”

Marlene waved, glad to have helped, before vanishing back to the main ward to find out where she was needed next, the influx of patients beginning.

The potion had obviously already helped as there was a slight tint of colour in her cheeks as Mason guided them through the busy ward to the fireplace and she seemed steadier on her own feet, gripping his hand tightly. He Flood them back to his flat easily, knowing that because she was with him she could get through the defensive wards he’d placed around it.

Mason sat her down on the sofa and busied himself making them both a strong cup of tea, checking on her every few seconds.

She knew the second she opened her mouth, she would crack. The emotions would come spilling out of her and flood her and she just really didn’t want to do that in front of him however avoiding that seemed pretty unlikely now that they were here. She was in his flat. Alone. And her feelings for him, amplified by being sat here, were just another thing on top of everything else that she wished she didn’t have to deal with.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, looking down at the floor, and he paused with the kettle in his hand, staring at her.

“For what?” he said calmly, finishing making the drinks and giving her time to work out what she wanted to say as he set the mugs down on the table.

She crossed her legs under herself and shivered. “For fucking up at the end.”

“How did you fuck up?” Mason frowned, grabbing a jumper he’d thrown over the back of one of the chairs and handing it to her.

Pulling it on eagerly and taking a deep breath, the familiar smell of him settling some of the panic, she licked her lips. “I should’ve been able to stop him,” she admitted, “I shouldn’t have needed you to take over.”

“Bullshit,” he said gently, shaking his head. “You did far better than even I could’ve expected. You’re not a full Auror yet, Lyra, and you took on _three_ Death Eaters at once and plenty more before that. And that’s without back up! Even I’d be reluctant to do that!”

She gave him a look, the corners of her mouth twitching.

He hid a smile too. “Okay, maybe I’d do it, but I’m an idiot and we know it.”

“Still,” she whispered, shrugging helplessly. “I _cried_.”

Mason watched her for a second and then shuffled closer to her. “You know I threw up after my first fight? I threw up and I cried and then I got drunk with the boys. All of that without the person I fought being my abuser.” She’d never said it in so many words to him, but he wasn’t dumb.

She snorted at the image but the laughter quickly vanished. “How do you do that every day? For the Aurors and for the Order too? I’d go mad.”

“Sometimes I think I am going mad,” he said honestly. “You’ve seen it. Sometimes it feels overwhelming, there’s so much pain and hurt and anger and it feels too much but what we do is good and right and important, and you’re strong enough for it, I know you are.”

She let out a shaky breath and brushed her thumb along his jaw, unable to stop the next words tumbling out of her mouth. “I heard their orders. They were looking for blood traitors and Order members and I couldn’t _breathe_, Mason, you’re both _and_ an Auror too, that’s three targets on your back and I didn’t know where you were or whether I’d be able to warn you or stop them. I could barely think straight.”

He shuddered slightly. “Likewise. I kept seeing you dead, I kept thinking of all the different ways they’d hurt you, all the ways I’ve _seen_ them hurt people, and then I saw you duelling Avery and something snapped,” he whispered, cupping her cheeks like he had before in the atrium. “I want to lock you in here and make sure nothing ever hurts you again but I know you’d hate me for it.”

At the mention of Avery, she started crying again, sniffling and desperately trying to wipe it away. The pain in her chest swelled unbearably and she shook her head as he reached out to her, holding her own hand up to stop him, giving herself a moment to focus on her breathing and the feel of his worried gaze.

“He… he said that it was always going to be me and him,” she breathed, blinking forcefully to clear the tears. “And it made me so _angry_, angrier than I’ve ever been before. That he assumed I'd give up and crawl back to him.That he knew so little and still does, that he thinks I’m _his_. I’m not his, I’m not anyone’s, I'm _mine_ and if I see him again I’ll kill him myself,” she said, not looking away as she spoke, her eyes burning, drying the tears. “When you arrived I felt like all that weight just vanished, because of course I’m not his. I don’t want him and I never did.”

“Lyra…”

“No, please let me speak. If this goes horribly wrong and it’s just the aftermath of today and you hate me then okay, but I can’t let something like that happen again and not say something to you about how I feel,” she breathed, tripping over her words. “When you arrived, when you took over, it felt right. Not just because we’ve practised together, not just because you’re supervising me or whatever it is, but because I needed you there.” She choked slightly but continued still, “I care about you, Mason, far more than I should and not in a professional way at all. Unless I’m delusional, you don’t think about me in a professional way either. And I don’t want to be in another situation like that not knowing if I missed my chance to tell you. We've been avoiding it for so long and it was nearly _too_ long. I care about you. So much.”

He only hesitated a second before he tilted her chin up and kissed her like he’d been wanting to do for months, like he’d imagined a million more times since the first time. It wasn’t a kiss to protect them this time, it was a kiss to say everything that he could never say in words and he felt her shift closer to him automatically, winding her arms around his neck and pressing her chest against his hungrily.

“I feel the same,” he promised breathlessly in between kisses, cradling her protectively. “I thought it was just me.”

She just laughed and slid onto his lap easily, settling down like she belonged there. “It’s not.”

“And you’re not hurt?” he checked, his hands sliding under the jumper that he regretted ever giving to her to wear because now he had to waste more time taking it off again.

“Do I look hurt to you?” she breathed, nipping at his bottom lip before pulling away to dump the sweater on the floor, the tea very much forgotten on the table next to them.

Mason laughed, scattering kisses along her jaw and down her newly exposed neck, shifting his grip around her waist to pick her up with him as he stood, her legs wrapping around him so she didn’t fall.

Maybe it was still adrenaline, maybe they’d just been waiting for this for far too long, but Lyra had absolutely no doubts in her mind as he carried her towards his bedroom, kicking the door shut clumsily behind him and making her giggle.

“I love that sound,” he mumbled, kissing her again as he set her down at the foot of the bed.

“What sound?” she grinned, kicking her shoes and socks off and standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him again, tugging impatiently at the bottom of his t-shirt.

“You, laughing like that,” he smiled, yanking the top over his head and wrapping his arms around her again. “You remember the storm? In the field? I knew at that exact moment that I was gone. You just stood there watching the rain and laughing and I’d never seen anything so perfect.”

“The storm?” Lyra said, eyes wide. “But I thought… we nearly…”

“I know,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he kissed her again, unable to stop himself, “We nearly did, but I knew we couldn’t. I wanted to, though, in case you had any doubts.”

“None anymore,” she said gently, tugging him over to the bed, hands running over his chest softly.

Mason watched her sit on the edge of his mattress and he paused for a moment, just taking it all in. “We absolutely don’t have to do this, Lyra, if you somehow feel you _have_ to, or that it’s expected, it’s _not_, I’m not… I mean, don’t get me wrong I _want_ to, but…”

“I know,” she promised, running her hands through his already messy hair like she’d wanted to do forever. “I know, and I want to too.”

“It’s been a weird day,” he mumbled, “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to just put it behind you.”

“And we _will_ put it behind us,” she said firmly, “I wouldn’t lie to you, not ever. I want this. I want _you_.”

Mason nodded and kissed her gently, lifting her fully onto the bed and straddling her. Satisfied that he was comfortable with this too, Lyra quickly moved her hands to undo his belt, cursing his habit of wearing Muggle clothes under his robes.

“Eager, much?” he teased but he helped her out anyway and left her to deal with that as he peeled off her top, screwing the fabric into a ball and dumping it happily.

“Likewise,” she grinned, moving her hips up to press against his and eliciting a small groan from him, “I’ve spent far too much time imagining this to waste time now.”

“You’ve imagined this?” Mason asked, his voice dropping slightly as he trailed his hands down her sides, sending shivers down her spine.

“You have no idea,” she mumbled, arching her back as he rid her of her leggings too. “Dorcas mentioned it, she had this dumb notebook.”

Mason watched her with a glint in his eye as his hands slid lower and then back up her thighs, revelling in the feel of her skin, of her body against his.

“It was for my birthday, she wrote a list of things that would make me happy and thought to include the fact that you were shredded,” she laughed, voice getting steadily breathier, “And then added that I was going to love seeing you naked. So really it’s her fault, at that point I barely knew you, but recently I couldn’t stop thinking about – oh!” she gasped, her hand flying to his hair as she realised that he’d slid her knickers down and was now very occupied between her legs.

“No, please continue,” he smirked, kissing her inner thigh.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about this,” she admitted, cheeks flushing as she arched her back again.

Mason glanced at her, eyes flashing wickedly as she panted slightly, before he slid his hands away and replaced his fingers with his mouth. Her grip on his hair tightened as she gasped again, tipping her head back and wishing he’d stay there forever. Despite the whirlwind of this situation, he was working a whole other kind of magic on her and she could hardly control her little noises as he continued, but she felt him pulling away far too soon and she opened her mouth to protest until she saw him pushing his jeans down and she quickly forgave him.

“Another time I’ll stay down there, I promise. But this time… I might be good but I’m not a saint,” he laughed huskily, kicking his jeans off and letting her deal with his boxers.

“I’ll manage,” she grinned, “And you don’t want me to-“

“Again, another time,” he groaned just at the thought, “Not now. I need to be inside you.”

She shuddered with want and nodded too, “And you’re clean?”

“You ask now? After all this craziness you’re thinking about that? God you’re predictable – and practical,” he huffed with laughter, nipping at her neck, “I am, yes. I assume the same goes for you?”

“I am nothing if not practical,” she snorted, tipping her neck to the side happily, her hand circling him impatiently and guiding him to her. “And if you ask again if I’m sure, I’ll kill you. I’m sure.”

He laughed again but conveyed his understanding by brushing her hand away and hooking her legs around his waist, kissing her hungrily as he moved into her, groaning as she did and pausing for a moment to collect himself. Lyra’s hands gripped his neck and shoulders, her nails digging in painfully but in perfect contrast to everything else. He waited another second before he started to move carefully, dragging another low moan out of her as he established a lazy rhythm, watching her chest heave with pleasure.

“Merlin, would you _move_?” she pleaded, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she rolled against him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Like… this?” he teased, accompanying the word with a slow thrust.

She swore again and nodded and so he continued, lifting her hips up carefully as he moved.

Mason continued to kiss as much of her as he could reach and she raked her nails down his back, making him hiss happily, speeding up the pace. He slid his hand down between them and rubbed her teasingly, being rewarded with a desperate whine.

“I’m so close,” she whimpered, sounding broken.

“Do it,” he croaked, his thrusts growing erratic.

She pulled him as close as she could as she came, tipping over the edge with a loud cry of his name and he followed her just moments later, his face buried against her neck, not knowing how he could possibly get closer to her but needing to.

They stayed silent for a long time as they caught their breaths, her fingers playing with his hair tiredly as he snaked an arm around her waist and kissed her neck, soothing the areas he’d bitten before.

Eventually, he pulled himself up and kissed her lovingly, brushing her hair off her face and grinning at her.

She flushed red as she watched him, swallowing nervously.

“Well,” he joked, unable to contain his laughter and she cracked, following his lead and gasping for breath until her sides ached.

Mason grabbed his wand from the floor and quickly cast the appropriate charms before handing her his top which was significantly cleaner and less dusty than her own.

“I’m so tired,” she admitted, laughing even as she yawned.

Mason snorted, “I suppose you should probably rest, yeah. Marlene was pretty adamant.”

“Nah that was precisely what the Healer ordered,” Lyra said slowly with a little smirk. “You did keep me warm.”

Mason gaped at her for a second and then threw a cushion at her with a loud laugh. “You! Everyone thinks you’re so innocent but look at you! Filthy, Miss Black.”

She sniggered and retrieved her knickers from the other end of the room. “Why did you throw these over here?”

Mason sighed dramatically. “They offended me.”

“Offended you?”

“Yeah, they were on you and I really didn’t want them to be.”

Laughing, she yanked them back on and padded over to him, his top being more than long enough to cover her modesty – not that it really mattered anyway at this point – and Mason wrapped his arms around her lazily, kissing the top of her head like he had before at the Ministry and marvelling once again how natural it had all been.

“I hate to be that bitch,” she said, glancing up at him and tracing the line of his collar bone where a suspicious bruise was starting to form just at the crook of his neck, “But… what are we?”

He smiled, “I was going to ask the same thing. I know there’s not actually a rule against us being together now you’re in the department properly, but I don’t think it’d be a great idea to go around parading this as much as I might want to.”

“So… secret relationship?” she laughed, feeling the warmth fizzing inside her at the idea that he’d want to show her off.

“I wouldn’t say secret, you seriously think I’m going to be shut up about this, or that you could get out of telling Dorcas?” Mason chuckled and she had to concede that point – she’d kill them both if they kept this from her. “I think _we_ can label it, if you want to, but we just don’t go around shouting about it?”

Her toes curled with delight and she nodded, kissing his chin. “Sounds good to me.”

Mason hummed happily and tipped her head up to kiss her properly, savouring it. “Then it’s decided.”

“You know I’d love to see Robert’s face if he realised that he was partially responsible for this,” she mused, making him laugh loudly.

“Oh fucking hell, he’d lose his mind. But I really don’t want to think about him right now,” he smiled, scooping her up easily and carrying her back to the bed. “Bed time!”

“I was planning on asking you to stay with me tonight anyway, before I thought that this was going to happen,” she said contentedly, yawning again and allowing him to tuck her in and crawl in next to her, propped up on one arm to watch her. “But I don’t think that’s going to be a problem now.”

He kissed her forehead softly. “No, I don’t think it will be either.”

“Night,” she whispered, brushing his jaw tenderly.

He didn’t reply, he just kissed the tips of her fingers as she pulled them back and stroked her hair gently until her breathing evened out, fast asleep in minutes.


	13. January 1981

_15th January 1981_

Lyra rolled onto her back slowly, feeling the sheets shift around her and the dip in the mattress move. Blinking, she looked and remembered where she was – Mason’s bed.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he grinned, “You know you snore, right?”

She rubbed her face quickly and blinked again, opening her mouth to reply.

“But it’s a very cute sound, so I’ll let you off,” Mason snorted, stretching happily.

“I should hope so,” she smiled slightly, brushing her hair back off her face. She’d never had to worry about what she looked like in the morning before, and after the craziness of the day before she dreaded to think what he was seeing. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, funnily enough,” he grinned, rolling back to face her and kissing her softly, making her blush. “Did you?”

“I did, although I feel like my limbs are made of lead.”

“I don’t blame you,” Mason admitted, tracing the edge of her jaw gently and watching her, his eyes soft. “Yesterday’s probably catching up on you.”

“Probably,” she agreed, catching his hand and holding it tightly, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. “Do you reckon I could have a shower?”

He chuckled, “Of course. Here, I’ll show you. Moody owled in to say we’re not needed today, most of the Ministry is shut down and the others are covering what the Aurors need to do, so we’ve got the day off. Take your time.”

He pulled himself out of bed as she sat up and she took the time to appreciate the sight of him in just his boxers. Feeling her eyes on him, he turned around and waggled his eyebrows.

“Are you coming for this shower or not?” he teased.

“Alright, alright, impatient, aren’t we?” she giggled, throwing the covers back and padding after him, laughing again at the length of his top on her. “Do you have a towel, too?”

“Nah, you’re going to have to walk around naked.”

She hit his stomach with a grin and he rolled his eyes, turning the light on and grabbing a clean towel out of the cupboard.

“Thank you,” she smiled as he headed back out with a chuckle.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Mason added, poking his head back in after half a second as she fiddled with the hot water settings.

She turned back and widened her eyes. “Uhhh, I don’t know? Anything, I’m not fussy.”

“Groovy,” he called as he vanished again, closing the door behind him.

Lyra laughed quietly to herself before she stripped and hopped under the steaming water. Even if she hadn’t already known what he smelled like, she was hit with it when she grabbed the shower gel from the rack and the familiar, comforting smell made her smile. She washed quickly, feeling the hot water bring back life to her limbs as she scrubbed her hair and face, the tension fading from her muscles.

Clean, she stepped out, wiped the makeup from under her eyes and picked up the fluffy towel. She realised that she didn’t have anything clean to wear, so, feeling slightly nervous, she tucked the towel around her tightly and headed back into the flat to find him.

“Hi, can I steal another top?” she smiled, sneaking up behind him and making him jump as he checked on the eggs.

“Don’t scare me like that,” he snorted, dropping the spatula and turning to face her properly, “Another top? Yeah, yeah, sure, help yourself, do you know where they are?”  
“I can find them, thank you,” she smiled warmly, stretching up on her tiptoes to kiss him again, her heart skipping a beat as he wrapped his arms around her lazily and tugged her closer.

“You should find one quickly or these eggs are going to get burned,” he teased, lightly tugging on the end of one of her damp curls and glancing down at the fluffy towel she was holding up.

She laughed and pulled away, rolling her eyes. “Noted. On my way.”

Mason watched her vanish into the bedroom with a grin, turning back to cooking breakfast with some self-restraint.

“Don’t you think it’s crazy?” she added as she reappeared, wearing a Muggle band tee that once again fell to her knees. “Yesterday was just a normal day and now… we’re here.” She hopped up onto one of the bar stools facing him where he was cooking as she dried off her hair with a charm. “As in, I’m in your kitchen after… after yesterday and last night. It’s nice, obviously, but… crazy.”

Mason shrugged, but he was beaming. “Maybe, but this is the kind of crazy I can get behind.”

“Funny that,” she drawled as he came around to kiss her again properly now the food was done. She was going to say something else sarcastic but got side-tracked as he cupped her cheeks and deepened the kiss.

“You have to stop doing this,” she protested, voice breathy as she adjusted the apron he was wearing with a little grin.

“Why?” he pointed out with a proud smirk.

“Because it’s just not _fair_,” she laughed as he kissed her again, grinning against her lips. “You’re walking around in boxers and a ‘kiss the cook’ apron, cooking, singing, looking all –“

“All what?”

“Attractive, insanely so, and it just isn’t fair on the rest of us,” she snorted.

Mason waggled his eyebrows at her, nipping at her bottom lip. “I’d like to point out that the same goes for –“

“MASON, LYRA! YOU’D BETTER BE THERE OR SO HELP ME GOD!”

Lyra jumped so much that she whacked Mason’s nose with her own, clapping her hand over her mouth to contain a laugh.

“Dorcas?” she breathed.

Mason cursed and scrambled over to the door with his wand, “I sent a letter over earlier this morning so when she got back and didn’t see you there she wouldn’t panic.

Lyra felt a brief stab of guilt that she’d not even thought about Dorcas getting back from her mission to news of a Ministry attack and no sign of Lyra.

“I’m here, Doe, what’s my secret hobby?”

“Painting, but it shouldn’t be _secret_ you silly fuck, _please_ let me in?” she begged.

She didn’t have to wait long – Mason unlocked the door once she’d got the question right. The second he let her in, she yanked him into a tight hug.

“Oh my _God_ thank you for the note but don’t you dare ever do that to me again! The empty flat! All I had was the fucking morning newspaper in headquarters when I arrived back and no one was there, and I knew you were both at work, and…” She trailed off once she’d given Lyra a fierce hug too, glancing between them frantically trying to assess their wellbeing.

Lyra could practically see the dots connecting in her friend’s brain after a few long moments of silence and her cheeks flushed as Dorcas’ brown eyes widened, her jaw dropping. The blush only served as confirmation of Dorcas’ thoughts, and she spluttered slightly, her eyes running down Mason and his (mostly) unclothed state, Lyra’s borrowed top and the small bruise just above her collarbone.

“You-“

“Here we go,” Mason sniggered, sauntering back over to Lyra and draping his arms over her shoulders lazily from behind, tucking her against his chest.

“You – you two – did you? I – WHAT?” Dorcas squealed, practically shaking with excitement as she pointed at them.

Lyra tried to contain her grin and failed, rolling her eyes teasingly at her friend’s joy. “We did.”

“And are you-“

“We are,” Mason promised, “But low key, Dorcas, so don’t tell the entire Auror department, yeah?”

Dorcas squealed again and barrelled over to them, flinging her arms around them both and squeezing tightly. “And you’re not hurt?”

“No, just exhausted,” Lyra promised, laughing.

“Oh _I’ll_ bet,” Dorcas said, eyes twinkling.

Mason hit her playfully. “Get out of my flat, Meadowes.”

“Fine, fine, I’m gone! I don’t want to interrupt, don’t worry, I just needed to check you were okay before doing the rounds with Dumbledore and Moody and all the post mission bullshit,” she beamed, extracting herself from the hug quickly and glancing between them happily. “Oh you have no idea how _thrilled_ I am you’ve _finally_ shagged! It was getting ridiculous!”

Lyra snorted and tipped her head back, groaning. “Please stop.”

“Was it good?”

“Dorcas!”

“It was me,” Masons scoffed. “Who do you take me for?”

“Point taken,” Dorcas conceded and Lyra groaned again.

“Stop discussing it!”

Chuckling, Mason kissed her happily and made a shooing motion towards Dorcas, who was now practically cackling with glee.

“Mason, when did I first tell you I knew this would happen? Some time around October? No! Earlier! I called it before her birthday! Call me a genius and I’ll leave.”

“You’ve been pushing this on us since _when_, Dorcas?!” Lyra choked.

“You’re a genius now _leave_, and don’t tell all our fucking friends before we do,” Mason snorted, pushing her towards the door. “Our breakfast is getting cold.”

“I’m gone, I’m gone! I love you both, bagsy bridesmaid! Byeeee!”

Mason shut the door in her face with a laugh.

Alone again, they’d eaten breakfast, Mason had showered and dressed (much to Lyra’s disappointment) and taken her back to her flat to get her some clothes too. They’d barely been in her flat ten minutes when the Potter’s owl appeared at the kitchen window and Mason took the note from its beak. Lyra glanced up from stirring his mug of coffee and raised an eyebrow.

“What does she say?”

“She heard about the attack, of course, she’s asking you if you want to come over to theirs so you’re not in the house alone? Apparently the Marauders are all there too, Sirius was asking after you.”

She smiled. “I’m down to go if you are?”

“Are _you_?” Mason retorted, “I’m used to fights, I bounce back quickly, you might not.. And you were in shock yesterday, I don’t want to to overload yourself today too.”

She handed him his coffee and sipped her tea slowly while she worked out what she wanted to say, watching him affectionately. “I think there was probably a time where I would’ve preferred to stay here, alone or with you, and just… wait it out. But I think I want to see them, and they’d only worry if I said I didn’t want to anyway so if it spares them that, I’d definitely like to go.”

“I assume there’s a note in my flat as well so I’ll tell Lily we’ll both go over in a bit?” Mason checked, grabbing a quill off the table where the girls’ junk was starting to pile up, their busy schedules meaning there wasn’t much time for cleaning.

“Sounds good,” she nodded, tipping her head to the side as she watched him write, the little smile she’d had permanently since last night still playing at the corners of her lips.

“I can feel you watching me,” Mason grinned as he signed the letter off and handed it back to the little owl, giving it a quick pet before it spread its wings and took off from the window ledge again.

“Oh now you can, and not any other time I’ve stared at you in the office?”

“I must stare at you way more than you stare at me,” he scoffed.

“What is this, a competition?” she smirked. “Because I’m way more competitive than you, you know I’d win.”

“Dirty Slytherin,” he teased, “Course you would.”

“Oi!”

“If the shoe fits,” Mason said dramatically, leaning against the table and wrapping his hands around the mug.

“Ugh, Gryffindors all suck,” she snorted, rolling her eyes at his childishness even if she was laughing. “_You_ suck.”

“I do, now come on, I need to find my jacket.”

* * *

Mason rang the doorbell and stepped back, glancing across at Lyra with a smile. “Last chance to change your mind on telling them.”

Lyra grinned up at him and shook her head, playing with the ends of her sleeves. “No, I’m still in. Say nothing until the right moment, agreed?”

“Agreed,” he laughed as Lily opened the door, Harry in one arm.

“Hello! Oh my God I’m so glad you’re both okay!” she gushed, beckoning them in as Harry waved his hands at them excitedly. “Everyone’s in the living room, do you guys want some food? Remus was stress baking apparently, there’s so much stuff!”

“I’d love some food,” Mason grinned, winking at Lyra as Lily looked away and slipping inside to greet their friends.

Lily hugged Lyra tightly and seemed to not notice that the jumper she was wearing wasn’t her own. “And you’re sure you’re okay? Mason said you’d just got a scratch and a fright but you know how he can be with injuries…”

“I’m fine, he was accurate for once,” Lyra laughed. “A good night’s sleep and a hot shower this morning and I’m okay, honestly, it was just too much in the moment!”

Lily nodded and hugged her again. “Marlene told us as much, do you remember seeing her yesterday?”

“Just about,” she smiled, following Lily in and immediately being tackled into a hug by Sirius.

“Oof, Merlin, Sirius, can we calm down?”

“No,” he said stubbornly, squeezing her quickly. “You’re okay, Mason looked after you okay, you’re not hurt?”

Lyra wriggled free and rolled her eyes quickly. “Just going to put it out there before I’m asked ten more times – I love you guys, I’m grateful you’re concerned but I’m okay, I wasn’t badly hurt, neither was Mason, we’re okay.”

“Thank you for that,” Mason said, glancing at Marlene who had clearly also been asking him the same thing.

She laughed and shrugged. “Easier this way.”

Remus offered them the tray of cakes and Mason took one eagerly, settling into his usual spot on the sofa as Lyra thanked Marlene for her help the previous night and everyone seemed to relax slightly knowing there had been no casualties.

As they fell into their usual muddled conversations, Lyra drifted to sit next to Mason, not giving anything away but close enough that she felt more grounded. As much as she was telling the truth when she said she was okay physically, yesterday had taken more of a toll mentally than she’d hoped and knowing he was next to her brought back the safety she felt around him. Knowing that he was aware of this, she crossed her legs on the sofa and nudged her knee against his leg lightly to let him know she was grateful. She hid her grin as he nudged her back, seeing a matching grin appear on his face as he continued talking to James.

Lyra zoned back into Sirius’ conversation on the other side of the room and frowned as she listened.

“Look, Moody sent over the list of the Death Eaters that had been there, and Regulus wasn’t there, thank fuck, I still don’t know what he’s up to, if he even is with them, but the usual suspects were.”

“Like who?” Lily frowned, bouncing Harry on her knee gently as she listened.

“Evan Rosier, Wilkes, Mulciber, you know, the whole fucking gang,” Sirius muttered.

While Lyra knew exactly which name completed the list, she hadn’t expected to react quite so much as her brother added, “And Robert fucking Avery, of course. Managed to get himself out again, as usual. Prick. When I find him I’ll beat him to a pulp. When I think of his dirty fucking hands on her it makes my blood boil.”

Mason heard the comment and stopped talking quickly, his head turning to Lyra to make sure she was okay.

She pressed her lips together tightly and stood up, untangling her legs and grabbing her glass, hoping she could make the excuse of needing another drink and retreat. Having seen him in person for the first time in months, the need to just be wherever he was not, even if he was only mentioned by name, was strong enough to carry her across the room. She might have temporarily forgotten, but the memories of his sneer, his arrogance, _claiming_ her once again, all came rushing back and her she felt her throat burn and her eyes fill with tears. Scrambling after her, Mason caught her wrist and turned her round to face him, his hand cupping her cheeks gently, tilting her head up so she met his eyes.

“He’s not here,” he said firmly.

Sirius stared at the pair of them in horror, not having realised she could hear him.

She choked slightly. “Mason, I-“

“I know,” he promised, taking a deep breath and watching her copy him, her chest heaving with the effort. “I know, Ly, but he’s not here, and you’re safe.”

Lily stilled her movements and held Harry still, watching them both, her eyes bright. The others fell quiet too.

“I shouldn’t react this way, I should be over it by now.”

“There’s no ‘should’ about this kind of thing,” Mason promised.

“I shouldn’t be scared of a name, Mason,” she protested.

“Why not? I’m not going to ask you to tell me what happened with him, but if that’s how you feel after seeing him, then that’s how you feel. You had to _fight him_, less than twenty four hours ago, I heard the shit he said – or some of it – and if you don’t want to think about him at all for a while then that’s okay,” he shrugged, his thumb brushing across her cheek. “I wouldn’t judge you, how could I? The others won’t either, you know that.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I’ve caused a scene over nothing and this definitely gives us up, no funny reveal or-“

Mason laughed, “I swear down, if _that’s_ your main concern right now, I dunno what I’ll do. Who cares?”

She rolled her eyes slightly and glanced over her shoulder at the others, who were all still watching wide-eyed.

Mason could see she was still stuck in her head so he wrapped his arms around her properly and kissed the top of her head, burying her against his chest and spinning them around to face the others. She giggled wetly from against his shirt.

“I dunno if we’ve managed to give it away or not,” he said sarcastically, “But, uh, we’re sort of – well, not sort of, we are – together now. If you could all act like we didn’t dump it on you like this but instead made a very amusing pun and then kissed, we’d be very grateful.”

Lyra giggled again, filling the beat of silence before Lily let out a very loud and excited squeal, reminding them both of Dorcas’ reaction earlier that day.

“Sorry, Harry, stay put,” Lily said hastily, placing her son back on the play mat and racing over once Lyra’ face peeking out from Mason’s arms told her it was okay to. “Oh my GOD!”

“Darling, a little bit quieter,” James laughed, getting up too and clapping Mason’s shoulder. “Congrats though, guys!”

“I knew it! I knew it would happen! I mean, I’m sorry it had to happen like this, both getting together and then us finding out,” Lily said quickly, brushing Lyra’s hair back from her face with a little smile, “But I’m _so_ happy!”

“Uh, sorry, what?” Sirius choked as Marlene laughed and tugged him over too, Remus and Peter adding to the group around the pair, Lyra having turned around in his arms to see them all properly, wiping her cheeks.

“Careful, kid,” Mason smirked, “I let you date my sister, time to return the favour.”

Marlene laughed loudly and leaned up to kiss Mason’s cheek. “If he complains even once he’ll get a kick from me, don’t worry, Mase.”

“And we won’t say his name around you either,” Remus said hastily, not wanting the original problem to be overlooked. “Let us know if that changes, or if it doesn’t then that’s okay too.”

Lyra smiled gratefully, nodding. “It was more the shock of yesterday, but thank you.”

Sirius watched her with a concerned frown. “Ly, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think it’d be an issue, I wasn’t trying to be a dick.”

“I know, Sirius,” she laughed slightly, “Don’t worry. Even I didn’t know I’d react like that.”

Mason squeezed her a little bit tighter.

“And – and I mean, I am okay with this,” he added, gesturing between them and making Mason snort. “I think you guys are good together.”

“Thanks, Sirius,” she grinned.

“Wait, does Dorcas know?” James checked, “If she finds out last she will kill us all slowly.”

Lyra shook her head. “She came over this morning.”

“Took her all of two seconds, she saw Ly in my top and put it all together,” Mason smirked, “Whose jumper do you think she’s got on now?”

“Merlin, you’re smug,” Lyra muttered, smiling despite herself.

“Mate, you won’t like it when she claims all of them as her own,” James warned, “Run and take your jumpers while you still can.”

“Sirius wears my jumpers, he says they’re softer,” Marlene added, leaving her boyfriend spluttering as the others howled with laughter.

“Uh, more importantly, do we tell her about…” Peter asked, glancing around at the others.

“Oh! Yes!” Marlene beamed, nodding. “Don’t look so scared! We’re all coming to the graduation ceremony tomorrow – I assume it’s still on, right, Mason? – to see you and Dorcas finish training!”

“All of you?” Lyra grinned. She’d just been expecting Sirius if his Order work allowed it, and Mason and Dorcas, obviously. “Wow!”

“You two are going to get the bigger cheers of anyone,” James said proudly.

“Yeah because you’ll be hooting like a banshee,” Remus retorted.

Lyra laughed. “Will the Auror department be able to contain all four Marauders in the same room?”

“Remains to be seen,” Sirius smirked. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Won’t we just,” Mason muttered and Lyra laughed loudly, shrugging at her brother who high fived James.

She had a feeling Moody would have a fit.

* * *

_16th January_

The set up in the large room was very similar to the Hogwarts graduation that Lyra had been at less than a year ago: the guests were all seated at the back, all the soon to be full Aurors in rows at the front, with Moody and Mason next to him on the small stage, the stand in front of the Head Auror holding his speech, prepared last night in between trying to coordinate the aftermath of the attack. Someone had foolishly asked him if he wanted to postpone and had never gotten an answer, just a glare so cold that the Ministry worker had retreated immediately; there were practical reasons for not delaying – they needed the Aurors ready to go, everything was already in place and it was far too late to cancel or even postpone, but more importantly they continued as planned to remind everyone that the attack wasn’t catastrophic, that life went on. The new recruits would surely learn that in the coming months. The deaths were tragic, the damage significant, but it hadn’t defeated them, it hadn’t cowed them, and nothing and no one would stop Alastor Moody getting something done.

“Ladies, gentlemen and whoever else happens to be here,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat and letting his magical eye wander over the crowd, always checking. “As you all know, today is the day you lot become actual Aurors, Merlin help us,” he chuckled. “The programme has been adapted to suit the times. It’s been fast – you’re here in just four months, normally this takes a year or more, but, frankly, you’ve all done a f-uh, a marvellous job.”

Dorcas grinned and elbowed Lyra, who was naturally sat next to her. “F-bomb in the first few sentences.”

“That doesn’t count,” Lyra hissed back, hiding her grin, rolling her eyes as Dorcas marked it down on the paper on her lap.

“I’m going to say it does, the more times Moody curses the more shots Mason does, remember?”

Lyra sniggered and rolled her eyes. “I’m not taking part, this is between you two.”

“You know you want to see him drunk again,” Dorcas said out of the corner of her mouth as Moody continued.

“You keep tally then, I want to listen!” Lyra grinned and Dorcas promptly shut up.

“We couldn’t have done this course so fast and so efficiently without the tireless work of Auror McKinnon,” Moody said, gesturing to his side to Mason who nodded politely. “He works _damn_ hard, as I’m sure anyone who knows this department can tell you.”

Dorcas silently added another line on the paper, deciding that for her purposes, damn counted as a swear word.

“I’ve asked him to say a few words so you don’t have to listen to me the whole bloody time,” the Head Auror added, stepping back as Mason took his place at the podium, grinning down at them all.

“Uh, hi.”

Lyra knew if she made eye contact she’d laugh, so she stared determinedly at her lap as he began to speak.

“Thanks, Moody, for the glowing introduction, I never knew you liked me so much,” he joked and there was a small ripple of laughter. Both Mason and Alastor were well liked in the department and amongst the new recruits and their back and forth was a constant source of entertainment. “I don’t think it would be right to get through this event without a mention of what has happened in this building just two days ago,” he added, his tone shifting as his eyes flickered to Lyra quickly. “We were attacked,” he shrugged, “The Ministry were attacked, people died, and it will happen again. We are at war. But that’s where we come in.”

“The job you’ve signed up for is far from easy, as I’m sure you’ve already found out,” he smiled, “But it is, in my opinion, the most noble job out there. Using our abilities to protect people who can’t protect themselves. To maintain order and fight for peace and stability against people who want to tear us apart. Maybe that’s the Gryffindor in me speaking, but I know you wouldn’t have stuck this out if you didn’t at least partly agree with me. I’ve had the awful job of getting you all into shape and honestly, I’m proud of you all. As Moody said, you’ve been magnificent. Even I couldn’t have done all of this so fast and-“

“You were the youngest Auror in half a century, we get it,” Dorcas hollered, folding her arms with a grin.

Moody jabbed his cane at her but he was chortling too, and James and the others barked with laughter from the back of the room as Mason glared at her good naturedly.

“Congratulations, Auror Meadowes, you’ve just become the quickest fired Auror in half a century,” Mason drawled, eliciting another round of laughter from the recruits.

“What I was _actually_ going to say was that I’ve been blown away,” Mason grinned, “We’re lucky to have you all.”

Lily started a round of clapping and the room burst into applause, most of the recruits suddenly finding themselves very embarrassed at being the centre of attention. Moody replaced Mason again at the little stand and waved his hand to silence the applause.

“Alright, alright, we don’t have all night, there’s the after parties to get to and all that,” he grumbled. “When we call your name, come up here on the left, we do the damn hand-shaking-receiving-the-diploma nonsense and then the camera will go off so please remember to smile, yadda yadda,” Moody explained, grabbing the list of the graduating Aurors and starting the list off.

Lyra starting running through a million things that could go wrong as her name was called – she might trip on the freshly ironed robes, she might have something still in her teeth from lunch, her makeup might’ve smudged – but she made it from her seat and up the steps without incident, Mason’s warm gaze on her steadying her pounding heart as she shook Moody’s hand, the older man winking at her as handed over the diploma and turned them to the photographer in the aisle below them. The flash went off as she beamed, taking a deep breath and laughing slightly as the back row, filled with her friends and her brother, exploded into applause. She heard Mason’s chuckle from next to her and then Moody gently nudged her to the other set of steps, Mason helping her down quickly as she was replaced on the stage by the next Auror.

Waiting by the side as everyone went up one by one, she watched Dorcas receive hers too, her friend practically bouncing onto the stage and saw her family, youngest siblings included, beaming with pride. Dorcas hopped down off the stage and pushed through the small group now waiting in the wings to throw her arms around Lyra, squeezing tightly.  
“We did it,” she breathed, pulling back and meeting Lyra’ shining eyes with her own dancing ones. “We actually did it. We’re Aurors. No ‘in training’ after it. This is it!”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Lyra said sincerely, gripping her tightly. “You’ve earned this, Doe.”

“You have too, you silly goose,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “What have I been saying? Girl power!”

The last person took to the stage, Aberto Zabini, and once he was finished, Moody clapped his hands to settle everyone down.

“Well, there you have it. I’m bloody useless with words, I’ll leave all that fancy nonsense to McKinnon here, so I’ll just conclude by saying you’re due back in on Monday as usual, check owls for your shift time, remember to be vigilant, and…” he paused. “Have fun tonight, you’ve earned it.”

Someone whooped – Lyra strongly suspected it was Marlene – and then the room erupted into chaos and noise as people ran to find their families, Dorcas dragging Lyra back to where her family and their friends were gathered.

They cheered as the two girls approached and Ruslana enveloped them both in a furious hug, kissing the tops of their heads repeatedly, making them laugh.

“Mum, please, let us breathe! Don’t squish the parchment!” she protested, but her father just took the scrolls off them and winked, allowing her mum to continue to shower them in compliments very rapid Ukranian.

Ruth giggled and managed to tug Lyra free to hug her too, but Adam Meadowes took her off Lyra after a moment so she could be congratulated by her brother.

Sirius seemed almost awkward as he hugged her and kissed the top of her head and Lyra glanced up with a grin. “What’s up?”

“He’s been trying not to sob,” Marlene smirked, appearing next to her boyfriend and squeezing between them to spin Lyra around. “What he’s trying to say is he loves you and he’s very proud of you but if he says it he will actually cry.”

Sirius glared at her but swallowed and conceded her point with a nod, grinning at his little sister. Lyra laughed and kissed his cheek, rolling her eyes.

“Should’ve guessed,” she teased, “Thanks, Sirius.”

Harry gurgled happily from James’ arms but Mason caught her arm first and she looked up at him, her eyes warm as he leaned down and kissed her.

“I thought we said we were keeping it low key,” she snorted as she pulled away, then pecked his lips again quickly for good measure.

“This is very low key compared to what I’d like to do,” Mason smirked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

James groaned and covered Harry’s ears with his free hand, rolling his eyes. “_Dude_, there’s kids around.”

“Later,” Lyra promised under her breath, unable to resist kissing him again. He grinned and let go of her to allow Lily and James to descend on her with congratulations too.  
He forced himself to do a loop of the other recruits – no, Aurors now – and spoke to them all but all the while he was watching her out of the corner of his eye: not that she ever didn’t look beautiful, but right now with her flushed cheeks and loose waves, her grin as wide as he’d ever seen it, he didn’t think she’d ever looked more stunning.

Moody nudged his arm with the head of his cane and raised one eyebrow at him. “When were you going to tell me, McKinnon?”

Mason’s cheeks darkened with an uncharacteristic blush and he shrugged. “Soon. It’s been a recent development.”

“Recent my arse, you’ve been all over each other for months,” Moody scoffed, his magical eye zeroing in on Lyra too, following Mason’s gaze. “If it matters any, I don’t disapprove.”

“Why thanks, Boss,” Mason grinned, shaking his head. “It won’t affect work, or working together, I promise you.”

“Oh I’ve no doubt about that, she’s far too professional for that.”

“Thank you – wait, _she_ is?!” he protested but Moody was already laughing loudly.

“You know I’m not wrong.”

Mason grumbled under his breath as he shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing around the room.

“You’re going home to celebrate now too, correct?” Moody said after a moment.

Mason looked across at the Head of Department. “Why?”

“Because I meant what I said, you work too hard. Go home, celebrate and get drunk or whatever you kids do these days, that’s an order.”

Mason laughed slightly and glanced down at the floor. “Alright, alright.”

Moody chuckled too, leaning on his cane slightly and taking a deep breath.

“One favour,” Mason said quietly, eyes still resting on Lyra as his expression hardened, “We don’t mention anything to her about this business with Avery.”

“You know what I said,” Moody said, voice dropping, “If it stays as Order business then I have no reason to mention it to her until she joins.”

Mason nodded. “Thank you.”

“I want the fucker dead just as much as you do. And not just for what he's done to her.”

He nodded again and took a deep breath, managing a smile and rolling his shoulders. “Good to know.”

“Now go, McKinnon, I mean it,” Moody retorted, focussing both eyes on his second in command. “And don’t even think about coming into work tomorrow until after lunch. Make sure she stays off too. Let her rest up some more.”

“Understood. Have a whisky tonight yourself, old man, we’ve done well with this lot,” Mason grinned, stepping backwards before he turned around and headed back over to the others, feeling Moody’s gaze follow him all the way to the door as they bundled out. "Might as well have a night off before we're back at work."

Moody grunted. Back at work they would be - the war was far from over.


	14. January 1981

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for this chapter: detailed discussions of abusive relationships, both from parental figures and partners. Emotional, physical and sexual abuse mentioned.

_16th January 1981_

“I hope you’re not too drunk from Dorcas’ dumb tally,” Lyra grinned as she locked her front door behind them, hanging her coat up on the hooks and turning to face him, leaning against the wall with her hands behind her back.

He grinned. “Moody only swore like four times, I’m no lightweight, that many shots aren’t going to get me drunk.”

“Good,” she said, satisfied as she walked over to him slowly, running her hand along the back of the sofa.

His eyebrow quirked up. “Why?”

“Because you said earlier that there was plenty you wanted to do tonight,” she smiled, her head tipping to the side as she loosened his tie slowly. “And I’d already planned on leaving the party early.”  
Mason made a little noise, his eyes lighting up. “Oh yeah? What else does your plan involve?”

“Well,” she started, dumping the tie over the arm of the chair and pushing him backwards towards her bedroom door, “It means when I _dressed_ for tonight I knew we’d be here now, undressing…”

Mason stayed quiet, letting her guide him into her room, his hands slipping around her waist as he grinned.

“Which means what I’m wearing underneath is much nicer than what I had on last time,” she finished, trailing off suggestively as she glanced up at him from under her eyelashes.

She’d changed out of her Auror robes once they’d gone back to the Potter’s family home for the after-party and now she slowly unzipped the back of the little black dress; Mason had liked the dress – it was perfectly acceptable for the party they’d been at with friends and family around but it was still more form fitting than what she usually wore and she knew full well he’d not been able to keep his eyes off her all evening – but as she slipped out of it and let it pool on the floor, he decided he liked it much better off than on.

“You like it?” she asked, her voice quiet, eyes bright and teasing.

“You ask the stupidest questions,” Mason said huskily, letting his eyes roam over her, taking in the black lace that covered as little of her as it could manage while still technically being underwear.

She grinned confidently and leaned up to kiss him, pressing her body against his and running her fingers through his hair. His hands dropped from her waist to her bum making her laugh and they stumbled the few steps over to her bed, not wanting to pull apart even if it made it easier.

“You looked so fucking pretty tonight, you know that?” he mumbled, helping her rid him of his shirt and dress trousers quickly.

“No,” she smirked, kissing along his jaw affectionately. “Tell me again, please.”

“You know I will,” he grinned, “You looked pretty at the presentation, you looked pretty at the party, you look _extremely_ pretty right now.”

“You’re pretty too,” she laughed, shivering as his hands brushed over her sides. “Very pretty.”

“And sexy,” he protested, pressing his hips against hers and eliciting a soft gasp from her. “Don’t forget sexy.”

“How could I,” she sniggered, running her fingers down his chest lightly and pulling him closer again.

“Good. But now I think it’s about time I congratulated you properly,” he said smugly, voice dropping lower in the way that made her shudder with anticipation, “On all your _hard_ work becoming an Auror…”

“I was going to be in charge today,” she whined, “I quite liked the idea.”

“Sweetheart, we both know that isn’t where you like to be,” Mason smirked, making her flush.

“You can’t possibly know that from one night,” she scoffed.

“Am I wrong though?”

“No,” she conceded, arching her back as he moved his hand around to carefully unclip her bra, his other hand sliding down between her legs and brushing over the scrap of lace there.

“I knew it,” he grinned, kissing her again as he tugged the knickers down too. “Now stop ruining the vibe.”

She giggled at him until he rolled them over and then her giggles turned to groans and she stopped protesting.

* * *

Curled up in his arms, Lyra traced little circles on his chest happily, trying to work out if he’d fallen asleep or not. Seeing as his breathing was even and calm, she untangled herself from him and sat up, dragging on a pyjama top and wrapping her arms around herself as she surveyed the room. She sighed slightly and wished they’d gone back to his – she loved her flat and her room, especially the view, but there was still something frustratingly un-lived in about it that she couldn’t shake off no matter how many posters Dorcas gave her to put up.

“What is it?” he mumbled, shifting when he realised she was no longer lying next to him and blinking up at her figure silhouetted against the light flooding in from the window opposite the bed.

She glanced back down and smiled, resting her chin on her arm as she watched him look at her sleepily. “Nothing, it’s okay. Just can’t sleep.”

Mason sat up too and leaned against the headboard, rubbing his jaw. “You sure?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay,” she laughed crawling back over to kiss him softly. “I’m just… listen, this sounds ridiculous, but what do you think of this room?”

“This room?” he snorted, rubbing his eyes but glancing around anyway. “I didn’t really pay attention before but… it’s nice? Why?”

She sighed again and shook her head. “It feels empty. Not like your place, or Dorcas' room, or Sirius'.”

“Empty?” he frowned, brushing her hair back over her shoulder, his mind flashing back to what Lily had asked of him months ago. “Your stuff is still at home, right?”

“Right,” she smiled, curling up against him again, “There’s not too much I miss properly, but I wish I had my photos, books, things Regulus gave to me, stuff that’s _mine_. I don’t care about the clothes or jewellery or anything like that, but the rest I miss.”

“Back when you guys moved in, Dorcas asked me if I’d go to Grimmauld Place and get stuff for you,” Mason admitted, playing with one of her messy curls. “You know, abuse my Auror powers and fetch it all – I think you mentioned it to the girls that day or something? I can’t remember.”

“And you did go? Or you didn’t?” she asked, eyes widening.

“I didn’t. It felt like an abuse of power,” he smiled, “And anyway, I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate someone nosying around your house without you knowing. You could go now yourself, I guess, you’ve got the diploma and everything.”

“I couldn’t, I’d crumble on the doorstep,” she whispered. “And I know Robert was over a lot, I’m not sure if that’s still true after everything but even the chance of meeting him there… There’s nothing there valuable enough to risk that.”

“You know I’d go if you wanted me to? If it was different now?” he said gently.

“Thank you,” she smiled, kissing him, “I know you would. I’ll think about it.”

He smiled back and shifted her easily onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her properly. Lyra settled against him carefully, tucking her head under his chin and tracing the line of a scar down his side, enjoying the feeling of his steady heartbeat.

“I’ll preface this with telling you firmly that you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to,” Mason said quietly into the dark, pulling her duvet up and over them, “What happened with him? I’ve seen how you reacted even before this week, I saw the end of that duel, I’ve seen you since. I never thought… I knew you were engaged when you first arrived at training, but no one, not even Moody, knew what had actually gone down.”

She stiffened slightly but otherwise she didn’t react and he took that as a good sign.

“I… I’m not sure I want to say,” she said, so quietly that he barely heard her despite her being right on top of him.

“That’s okay, consider it forgotten.”

She shifted quickly to look him in the eye, her hands bracing on his chest. “It’s not because I don’t think I should,” she explained quickly, her eyes almost luminous in the moonlight, taking his breath away, “In fact, I think half the problem is that I’ve not told anyone and it’s just sat inside eating away at me. I should tell you, I’m just scared.”

Mason watched her for a moment, watching her chest and rise and fall quickly with nerves. “Of what?”

She watched him back, noting the concern swimming in his eyes, the strong line of his jaw, feeling his hand on the small of her back reassuringly. “Of what you’ll think of me if I tell you.”

He blinked in surprise – she wasn’t confident in the same outward way that Dorcas was, but he’d never taken her as self conscious. From the first time he’d seen her and every time since there had been a quiet steel in the way she held herself: the quick dismissive toss of her head, the stern line of her mouth when she focussed, the force behind her defensive spells. He thought he had her pretty much figured out, and the realisation that she was genuinely worried that this would change his perception of her stunned him.

“I’d not think any different of you.”

“That’s a lie, Mason,” she retorted, voice soft, “Whether you think _badly_ of me or not, you will think _differently_. You can’t not think differently.”

When he stayed quiet, she continued, “You’ll think differently because I didn’t behave well, I didn’t do the right thing at all times, I let myself be a person that I’m not proud of. You joke about me being a Slytherin but there was a reason I was put there, I didn’t just choose it to be loyal to my family.”

He shook his head. “No one is perfect their whole life. It won’t make me think badly of you at all.”

“I’m not sure how much you were aware of me at Hogwarts,” she started, keeping her eyes trained downwards at his chest, not brave enough to look at him.

“A little bit, I remember seeing a cute girl in the Library at all hours of the day,” he chuckled, “I didn’t realise you were Sirius’ sister though.”

“I stayed very below the radar,” she admitted, “I had a boyfriend before Robert, Charlie, he was a half blood, _very_ rebellious for me. My parents found out just after I’d slept with him, seems the idiot hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut about it, one of my cousins got wind of it and told on me. Plans with Robert were made within the month,” she said, smiling wistfully, “We weren’t engaged officially but it was as good as sorted. This was the end of fifth year, I was still sixteen. Obviously I had to sleep with him too, to 'fix the mess', to make it up to them somehow, to show them I was well behaved, that it wouldn’t happen again.”

Mason tried to say something but she quickly covered his mouth with her hand, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“In the Atrium he said it had always been me and him. He was kind of right. I didn’t try anything funny again. I stayed with him, I only spoke to people my parents thought were appropriate, I stopped wishing Sirius would speak to me, I _let_ it all happen,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I got through the rest of school like that, like a doormat, not saying anything or doing anything even though I knew what him and his friends were doing, what they were planning – I knew about Mary MacDonald and I did _nothing_, and I wish more than anything that I’d walked over to Gryffindor and found Sirius and just stayed there and never looked back.”

“I graduated, I wanted to join the Aurors as an escape as well as wanting to make up for everything I’d let happen at school, but obviously now I’d graduated, I would be getting married. I trained for the physical exam and recorded the results secretly before my mother started whatever insane diets she thought appropriate to get me ready for the wedding and I'd be too weak,” she said, taking a deep breath and looking up at him finally, letting her hand drop although he didn’t try and say any more, remembering how skinny and exhausted she'd been back in September, how she'd nearly thrown up running laps.

“With wedding plans in motion, Robert got worse. He’d always been… aggressive but not physically so. He never really bothered with me unless he wanted sex or someone to go to a Slug Club party with, we’d coexisted relatively peacefully, if you can call it that. But that summer was…” she shivered, “Different.”

“I can fill in the blanks for myself if you don’t want to say it out loud,” Mason said softly. “I think I know, Ly.”

“I want to say it,” she choked out, “I want to stop hiding from it.” She paused for a long while before she spoke, her voice shaky but strong: “He’d hit me, drag me around at parties and not let me speak to anyone, twist anything I said and make me complicit in all his business, remind me that I couldn’t get help, force me to do things I didn’t want to just to make me feel shit, not even sexual things, just anything he could think of. I went to Moody half-way through the summer with the application I’d written at graduation, knowing I was too young but begging him to take me anyway. I played the pity card, I played any card I could get and he let me on.”

“I said nothing to my parents, to anyone, I just counted down the days I could get to the Ministry and Portkey away and leave them all behind and let them figure it out, I didn’t have a plan for afterwards, I just knew I had to get out and get through training,” she explained, “But the night before, my parents threw a party, it was a couple of weeks until the wedding so it was a small thing. Robert decided that I’d still not learned my lesson so he dragged me upstairs, locked the door behind us, hit me harder than he had before when I said I didn’t want to. I knew there was nothing keeping me there anymore so when he grabbed me I just lashed out, I threw him into the wall, I – I think I knocked him out, and I just left. I grabbed some money I grabbed the stuff I’d packed ready and I left, I wandered around London all night before I ended up at the Ministry for the start of the programme. Where obviously I stopped talking about it. Even Dorcas doesn’t know. It’s been /rotting/ away ever since.”  
“You know you should speak to someone about that, right? Like properly?” Mason said quietly, but there was a sharp edge to his voice, the barely contained anger that he felt whenever he thought of Avery anyway being set alight by the new information. He was glad they were hunting him down already. “Not just me.”  
“I know, I know,” she said, her voice breaking slightly, “But I do feel better now and I know I shouldn’t just dump it on you like that, that’s not fair either, but I am glad I’ve said it out loud.”  
“The amount of shit I’ve dumped on you, I think this makes us even,” he promised firmly, cupping her cheeks and kissing her forehead. “Thank you for trusting me with it. I won’t tell anyone else unless you want me to. And while you might think that not speaking up makes you a bad person, sure, it’s not exactly _good_ to let things like that happen, but you knew it was wrong and you were scared. Self-preservation is a valid reason to stay quiet, I hope you know that.”

She sighed with relief and closed her eyes. “Thank you. You’re… perfect, you know that? I half think I’m dreaming all this. I don’t deserve all this.”

“Even the sex?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“No, that’s _too_ good to be a dream,” she laughed slightly, settling down next to him as he lay back down, his arms still around her.

“You’re only feeding my ego,” he grinned, stroking her hair as her eyes drifted shut again.

“Oh well, I can deal with that another night.”

“And you reckon you’ll be able to sleep now?” he asked gently.

“Mhmm, if you can?”

“Oh yeah, someone tired me out earlier,” he teased, closing his own eyes and dropping his hand from her hair as he relaxed.

She giggled quietly. “Goodnight, Mason.”

* * *

Mason jerked awake at the sound of the bedroom slamming open and Lyra’s screams from next to him and he grabbed his wand frantically off the bedside table, throwing a hex towards the doorway even as Lyra lunged and knocked his arm to the side, the blue light missing Dorcas by inches, her eyes wide and frazzled.

“Mason, Mason, it’s just Dorcas!” she whimpered, her hand on her chest as her heart thudded hard enough for him to feel it as she took a deep breath, her head dropping onto his shoulder as she recovered from the fright.

“Dorcas, what the _fuck_?!” Mason snapped, throwing the wand down on the bedding and sitting up properly, trying to calm down too, his body having shifted automatically to attack mode.

“I don’t have time, I’m not here to joke, you need to get up now, James and Lily owled.”

“W-what?” Mason croaked, blood pounding in his ears.

Lyra pulled herself away from him, her face pale. “Are they okay? Is everyone okay?”

“They’re okay but – listen, I can’t explain this now, you just need to come with me,” she choked, shaking her head as she weakly lifted the letter she’d just received.

Scrambling out of bed, the pair dragged some clothes on and hurried after Dorcas, grabbing the Floo powder and transporting themselves to the living room of the large Potter house. Mason knew it was bad when the Floo actually worked – they’d taken themselves off the network ages ago to make the house safer and only set it up in emergencies.

The others had all already gathered: the other Marauders and Marlene were there, but so was Professor Dumbledore and the hairs on the back of Mason’s neck stood on end, his wand still clutched in one hand, the other gripping Lyra’s hand tightly.

“James, what the fuck is going on?” he muttered, making his way over to his friend who was looking deathly pale.

Lily stepped forwards, ringing her hands nervously and glanced towards their old headmaster. “Should we tell them, Sir?”

“That’s your decision, my dear,” Dumbledore said, glancing down at her and then around at their friends. “I can’t tell you how much to share with them.”

“If you don’t explain right now I think I’ll be sick,” Sirius said sharply.

James bounced Harry in his arms as the toddler grizzled unhappily, watching Lily too. “I vote we tell them what we’re doing and why, but no more. No details.”

“No details,” Lily repeated faintly, her usual brilliant eyes dull as she glanced down at the floor and took a deep breath.

“Lils?” Dorcas whispered. “What’s going on? And why the fuck is Dumbledore here?”

“Because he came today to tell us about a prophecy. A prophecy that… that concerns us.”

Mason blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“There’s this prophecy, I don’t know whether I believe it or not, but… but Voldemort certainly does.”

A tremor seemed to pass through the room.

“He thinks… he thinks _Harry_ will be the one to kill him,” James explained, his grip on his son tightening desperately. “And so he’s hunting for him. Or about to start. We’ve pissed him off enough as it is, I think he’d hunt us anyway, this was just the final straw.”

Marlene sat down on the sofa next to Remus who’d not moved in a very long time.

“I don’t understand,” Lyra said weakly, shaking her head, “He’s just a baby. And why does You Know Who want to hunt you anyway? I… I didn’t know this, I don’t get it.”  
“I don’t either,” Lily said with a tight smile, “But we have to hide. I mean, this place is protected, sure, James’ parents set up years worth of wards, it’s impenetrable, but they know where it is, they know where _we_ are, we can’t stay here.”

“So you have to vanish,” Mason murmured, watching James’ jaw tighten.

“Precisely, we have to go and stay gone until he’s no longer a threat to Harry,” James said, trying to sound confident and failing.

“I came here to break the news and offer some suggestions of what to do in this situation – there is some old magic, several options, in fact, that I will explain to James and Lily soon,” Dumbledore added.

“But we need to go today, as soon as we can,” Lily said, her voice shaking as she started to cry. “We don’t know how much time we have.”

Marlene started to sob too as one by one they realised what that meant: this was the last time they would see the Potters. Indefinitely.

Sirius shook his head firmly. “No.”

“Sirius…”

“No, Prongs. No. There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t,” James said, his voice hoarse. “Mate, there isn’t. This is the safest option, we can’t – nothing can happen to Harry, _nothing_.”

Peter sat down next to Remus, rubbing his friend’s back and wiping his own face with his sleeve. “Is there anything we can do to help?” he whispered.

“I’m afraid not, Wormy,” James said seriously, pushing his glasses up his nose. “This is something we have to do alone.”

“We can help somehow, though,” Lyra said softly, “What do you need? Clothes, things packing into boxes, anything.”

Lily turned to smile at Lyra. “We’d love that, thank you. We’ve already worked out where we’ll be going, it’s not as big as this place so we won’t need as much but our things being packed up would be wonderful.”

“We can do that,” Lyra nodded, nudging Mason’s arm because he seemed to have frozen in shock. She realised being the least connected to the Potters that she was probably going to be the most put together of everyone and a quick glance around confirmed her suspicions.

“Guys?” she asked nervously, “Peter, Remus, seeing as you guys know Muggle cooking, maybe you could sort out the kitchen essentials? Marlene, Sirius, if you grab, uhh… photos, decorations, stuff like that? Dorcas and Mason, can you do Harry’s things? Toys, and his bedroom. Which leaves me, I.. I can do your room?” she finished, looking back at Lily who nodded through a fresh wave of tears.

Most of them realised that they needed to do being something, anything, to keep them going and so they headed on autopilot to do what she’d suggested, expressions blank. Sirius stayed unmoving, staring at James in horror. Dumbledore drew his wand and started conjuring boxes for the items the others were gathering so Lily took Lyra’s arm and hurried upstairs with her to her and James’ bedroom.

“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to leave,” Lily whispered, pausing for a second to meet Lyra’s eyes. “And I can’t tell you how glad I am you’ve still got some sense about you because I feel so _useless_.”

“Please don’t think it’s because I’m not upset,” Lyra said, her eyes burning, “I just… I just reckon I’m pretty good at suppressing stuff until a later date, and someone needed to get things moving.”

Lily laughed wetly and flung her arms around her. “I love you. You did the right thing, I know they’d all have stood there like idiots otherwise.”

Lyra laughed too and gripped her tightly, inhaling deeply. “Please don’t make me cry right now.”

“No, no, of course not, we can pack up and then… then we’ll do that,” Lily said, nodding as she tugged herself away from the embrace with difficulty.

They fell silent as they worked, knowing that talking would only make it harder.

* * *

It was nearly an hour later when they headed back downstairs to find the others done too, the boxes already sealed and stacked thanks to a few spells. Everyone was sat around silently and James stood up again once Lily came in, kissing her quickly.

Dumbledore stepped forwards. “I think, James, Lily, that it’s time for everyone to leave so we can set up the required magic.”

Lily nodded. No one moved.

Lyra slipped back over to Mason and took his hand. “We need to leave, Mason.”

“I can’t,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“We have to,” she replied, resting her hand on his cheek, speaking more loudly so the others heard to, “You know we have to. To keep them safe. To keep Harry safe. We have to leave and let them do this, no matter how much it hurts.”

Mason’s face crumpled but he nodded and swallowed hard. “Y-yeah. Yeah. Okay.”

She smiled reassuringly and went over to Lily again to say goodbye properly, hugging her and then James swiftly and fiercely, kissing Harry’s head and smoothing his unruly curls so like James’.

“We’ll see you soon,” she said firmly, her lower lip trembling but her eyes stayed dry as she stepped back.

Dorcas darted forwards to do the same, struggling to pull away. She took one last look at them both, smiled and then left, unable to take it anymore. Marlene did the same, her shoulders shaking with tears as she said her goodbyes and fled the house. Peter and Remus both somehow managed to get themselves out of their seats and over to their friends, the four Marauders gathering around for a tight hug, before Sirius stayed and let the other two Floo away.

Lyra tugged Mason’s hand gently, forcing him into motion and he managed to say goodbye too before stepping back, his jaw clenched so tightly that Lyra was scared he would hurt himself. Leading him over to the fireplace, she glanced over her shoulder at the remaining four and Harry still in James’ arms. Lily smiled gently at her, brushing James’ hair back off his forehead as Dumbledore spoke under his breath to Sirius who was staring determinedly at the floor, his expression stormy.

“Look after him,” Lily mouthed to her, blowing a kiss before turning back slowly to her husband and son.

Lyra bit back a reply and Flood herself and Mason back to her apartment, squeezing her eyes shut to preserve that last image of her friends, Lily’s eyes burning into hers, Harry’s kicking legs in James’ steady arms.

The tears fell the moment her feet hit the carpet of her living room as she felt her heart break, the happiness that she’d slowly started to put together shattered into a million pieces.


	15. February 1981

_February 13th 1981_

He woke screaming again, the weight of his dreams and memories and fears dragging him down and down and down until he clawed at the sheets, drenched in sweat, bolting upright and lashing out at the hands on him, wanting his wand, wanting to run, wanting to sob until he couldn’t any more.

The cold air sent a shiver down his back as he hunched over, finally free of the sheets that had trapped him, gulping for air as his chest heaved. Silence for a moment, then the quiet sound of Lyra climbing back onto the bed and brushing her hands through his hair, over his shoulders, working his hands loose where they were digging into his arms, murmuring gently the whole time as she slipped onto his lap, wrapping her whole body around him, cradling his head.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay, it’s safe,” she promised, her voice only slightly shaking. “You don’t need to say anything, you don’t need to apologise, just deep breaths.”

Mason gasped for air for a long time as he tried to clear his head and calm his body down, gripping her nightgown desperately as she continued to stroke his hair, taking deep breaths that he could copy.

“There,” she said softly, pulling away and resting her forehead against his once his breathing matched hers. “There, it’s over.”

His face crumpled and he let out a sob, shaking his head. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep going.”

“You can,” she smiled, “You can. You’re getting there.”

The first nightmares had come just a day after James and Lily had gone into hiding, the absence of them triggering a wave of panic that had been slowly building under the surface. They hadn’t stopped since and every night he’d been forced awake sobbing, panicking, screaming, breathless, no matter if he was at home or at Lyra’s. And every night she’d done this – tirelessly, unfailingly, uncomplainingly.

Slowly, so slowly, the sobs died to a whimper and the whimper died too, leaving him exhausted and empty.

She kissed his bare shoulder and straightened up. “I’ll get the kettle on,” she said quickly, slipping off the bed reluctantly but knowing the routine helped him, as loathed as she was to leave him even for the few minutes this would take.

It didn’t take her long and she padded back through from her little kitchen with two mugs of tea, plenty of sugar in both.

The next stage of the night began now: “Please don’t go in to work?” she whispered, setting the mugs down onto the bedside table and sitting down next to him again, crossing her legs.

“I have to.”

“You don’t have to, Moody would understand, he wouldn’t want you tearing yourself apart like this,” she begged.

“I’m needed, Ly, you know I am,” he said hoarsely, rubbing his chin and trying to stretch his aching shoulders.

As usual, she couldn’t argue with that. “At least don’t stay late? Come back here and _sleep_ even if it’s just for a few hours. Maybe you could avoid this then?”

“I’m needed,” he repeated shakily, taking a gulp of the tea and another deep breath.

Lyra watched him for a moment, the dark bags under her eyes mirroring the ones under his. Her chest ached looking at him – he’d aged years in the last month – and she hated that she couldn’t do more.

It seemed that You Know Who’s inability to find the Potters had angered him beyond measure: the last month had seen an increase in attacks on both magical targets and Muggles, the Muggle Prime Minister was at her wits end trying to manage the fear in the Muggle world as the Aurors were swamped with work, the amount of captured or killed Death Eaters seemingly making no dent in the amount of followers the Dark Lord was amassing. Moody, Mason and half the department were working sixteen hours shifts most days and Lyra knew Mason was getting a few hours of sleep _maximum_ each night.

The only reason she wasn’t a wreck too was the fact that she had still only been doing this for a few months and wasn’t doing Order work besides. She honestly didn’t know how he was getting out of bed each morning.

She ran her hand through his tousled hair gently and said nothing, knowing there was nothing she could say that would convince him to step back, and knowing that he wouldn’t be Mason if he did.

Mason drained his mug and set it down on the little table, turning to wrap his arms around her, his steady warmth radiating off him as she relaxed against him.

“Please don’t think that I don’t appreciate this,” he murmured against her hair, closing his eyes tiredly. “Even if you’re not going to manage to change my mind, knowing you care enough to try makes a big difference.”

“Of course I’ll try, and I’ll keep trying,” she whispered.

“I know this isn’t exactly how the first month of a relationship should be…”

She scoffed. “Please, let’s be real, we were basically together much earlier. This is just how we were ‘before’ but with more kissing."

Mason laughed and rolled his eyes. “Touché.”

“And I like it, you know?” she continued, twisting around on his lap to face him again. “I mean, it’s not ideal, I wish we weren’t fighting a war, I wish you weren’t exhausted and upset, but we’re here, we’ve got this, nothing is going to take that away from us. I won’t let them.”

He chuckled and held the back of her head tenderly. “You won’t let them? We’re in safe hands then.”

“Don’t mock me,” she said, pouting, leaning against his chest so he lay back down.

“I’d never mock you,” he promised, settling down, his body exhausted even if he was scared to sleep again.

“Good,” she said smugly but her tone was soft, “Now _sleep_, Mason.”

“Yes boss.”

* * *

_14th February 1981_

“Take my hand,” Mason said firmly, holding it out to Lyra the moment they were outside the Ministry’s anti-apparition spells, “I know the village, I’ll get us there.”

Lyra slipped her hand into his with a sharp nod and in an instant they were gone, twisting away through the air to the small Welsh village.

The Auror department was populated with enough Order members that both organisations could alert each other to news of an attack, and when Frank had rushed into Mason’s office to let him know Benjy had called for help, both Mason and Lyra had left immediately to provide backup while Frank mustered a proper Auror squad through the official channels. They were clearly the first ones there, and Lyra dropped his hand to raise her wand as they naturally fell into position watching each other’s backs, surveying the area.

“Benjy’s house is up at the end, the rest of this place is Muggles, maybe a couple of wizarding families but if there are Death Eaters here they wouldn’t bother being quiet, why aren’t they attacking?” Mason began, voice low with worry.

“Precisely, we can’t possibly have got here _that_ fast,” Lyra agreed, poking her head into the street.

Mason had just opened his mouth to suggest that they move when a massive explosion rocked the cobbled street as the light and noise blasted outwards from the centre of the village, tiles dragged from roofs and cracks snaking their way through the pavements. Bracing against the low wall they appeared next to, Mason steadied them both and met her gaze, eyes wide.

The Muggles in the houses started to stream outside, exclaiming in panic as the first few weak screams pierced the late afternoon air. In the sky above the blast zone, a shimmering green snake wound its way through the hovering skull as blasts of green light followed, lighting up the gloom.

“How many can you sense?” Mason tried, hoping she could give them an idea before they dived right in.

She shook her head. “I don’t know, it doesn’t work like that. I’m too far away, there’s too much other magic going on, it’s not – ugh – I can’t tell.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he promised swiftly, moving forwards towards the commotion with his wand tucked just out of sight to minimise the work the Memory Modification team would have to do later, Lyra right on his heels.

Their odd robes would normally have made them stand out, but it seemed that the village was too preoccupied scrambling back to the perceived safety of their homes to notice the two strangers picking their way towards where the lights were coming from.

“Are we going for arrests?” Lyra checked grimly, “Or just getting rid of them?”

Arresting Death Eaters was becoming more and more difficult now they knew the Aurors could use brutal force – they were far more resistant to arrest and would face death before being captured and possibly giving information away.

“Try to subdue and secure them,” Mason muttered as they made it to the last corner before the origin of the spells. “Don’t try and stop them leaving if they want to leave – there could be many more of them than us, I’d quite like to keep us both in one piece.”

She nodded her understanding and took a deep breath.

“We stay together, you understand?” he smiled, “I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine.”

“Always,” she promised, her grey eyes meeting his blue ones for a second before, magical shield first, Mason spun around the corner onto the main street.

A split second behind him, his shadow, Lyra followed and gasped at the bodies scattered on the floor, all in Muggle clothes.

“Is this random? Or are they here for Benjy?”

“I imagine for Benjy, but the fact that they’re killing at will suggests they’re not as scared of-“

Mason was cut off as a searing hex flew right past them and he turned to return fire, Lyra stepping into place behind him to watch for more attackers from the many twisting side streets, her panic pounding in her ears.

She felt her blood run cold at a familiar cackling laugh and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

“Mason?”

He grunted in reply.

“Bellatrix is here,” she said, her voice steady. The adrenaline was starting to kick in as she scanned the area desperately, and the usual rush that came with the anticipation of a fight seemed to burn the uncertainty right out of her one nerve at a time until she could breathe properly again.

“Well shit.”

“Agreed.”

She couldn’t say any more as another masked Death Eater appeared from an alleyway and began the assault from a second direction, forcing her to defend them both from her side.  
They fell into a grim silence as they duelled, keeping back to back as they twisted and dodged the spells, knowing full well that there would soon be killing curses fired once the attackers grew bored of the fight.

More apparition noises startled her and as she blinked and recovered a hex slipped through her defence, a lick of flame wrapping around her calves and singeing through the robes, burning her skin. Yelling out in panic, she managed to stun the Death Eater who was immediately bound and tied by a spell from the opposite direction, further down the street: Frank and the Aurors had arrived.

She turned to help Mason dispatch his Death Eater, ignoring the pain shooting up her legs and checking him over quickly once they could catch their breath.

“Are you okay?” Mason muttered, crouching down to inspect the damage as she winced even at him moving the charred fabric.

“No, but I’ll manage for now.”

He frowned, “If you want to go back-“

“We don’t have time, until there’s more than a handful of us here, I’ll stay. We need to find Bellatrix,” she said firmly, offering him her hand to help him back up.

He hesitated before he took it, straightening up and running a hand through his hair. “Sure, which way did she go?”

Lyra clenched her jaw and headed towards where she’d heard her cousin. It didn’t take them long to find the person behind the laughter and Lyra was worried that she wasn’t looking to hide.

“Little Lyra?” Bellatrix called from around the corner, her voice high and lilting.

Lyra stopped so quickly that Mason ran into the back of her.

“Oh I know you’re there, you and your hot new boyfriend!” she giggled.

Mason stepped forwards like he was going to go in but Lyra put her hand on his chest to stop him.

“He _is_ good looking isn’t he? Although his friend Benjamin was too, such a shame.”

_Was_.

Her heart began pounding in her chest – they were too late.

“It’s always a shame when we have to do this, sweetheart,” Bellatrix continued, using the softer voice that she remembered from her childhood on the occasions when Bellatrix had been almost nice. “I don’t _like_ blasting talented wizards apart.”

A short pause, then a cackle.

“Well, maybe I do,” she admitted, “So maybe it’s best that you stay hiding around that corner, I’m not sure your boyfriend will want to see poor Benjy like this.”

Mason looked over their shoulder nervously, knowing someone had to be able to see them for Bellatrix to have this information.

“Your brother is around here somewhere, Lyra,” Bellatrix crooned, “Don’t you want to see him? For that matter… Robert will be here soon. He’ll be delighted!”

“That’s it,” Mason snarled, launching himself around the corner before Lyra could react herself, throwing a blindingly bright jinx as he did so.

“Mason!” Lyra shrieked, forced to follow him into the little square.

Bellatrix, clearly having been expecting this, laughed again and blinked out of existence, several other Death Eaters vanishing with her to take the fight elsewhere as Lyra tried desperately to recognise them before they vanished.

Mason’s plan had somewhat succeeded – one man hadn’t managed to escape, his mask gone as he frantically tried to apparate but found his feet were stuck fast to the floor, his wand having already been wrenched out of his hand and scooped up by Mason.

“Julius Jerome,” Lyra said quietly, recognising the name from one of their many files.

“Julius Jerome,” Mason repeated, chest heaving with the leftover anger Bellatrix’s taunts had caused. “You are hereby arrested for involvement in this attack, affiliation with a terrorist group, and… and the m-“

“And involvement in the murder of Benjamin Fenwick and unnamed Muggles,” Lyra said firmly before Mason broke. “As Aurors, we will escort you to the Ministry where you will be detained and tried for your crimes. Anything you say can and will be retrieved via Pensieve and used against you, so I suggest you don’t say anything,” she finished sharply, binding him with both physical ropes and an invisible magical version.

Frank burst around the corner, out of breath from chasing after them and nodded quickly when he saw them with the bound Death Eater.

“Thank fuck you two are okay,” he said quickly, hurrying over and forcing himself not to look at the amount of blood and debris on the floor. “Is Benjy…”

“Dead, if Bellatrix is to be believed and I can’t she why she’d lie,” Lyra whispered.

Frank swore softly and closed his eyes for a moment. “I’ll take him back to the Ministry if you two are still good to fight? Alice isn’t here today and it’d be better if we have a duelling pair out there, there’s still plenty of them wreaking havoc. The Order’s arrived though, so we’re no longer outnumbered.”

Mason nodded and glanced back at the alleyway they had come through frantically. “We’re good to go, Frank.”

“Sweet,” he said tiredly. “Any clue where Benjy is? We should try and find him once all this is done and if she said anything…”

Lyra licked her lips nervously. “I… I don’t think there’s going to be a body,” she admitted.

He swore again. “Noted.”

“Let’s go,” Mason muttered, and she noticed the flatness of his eyes and felt her chest ache for him knowing that this death was only going to be added to the list he blamed himself for.

* * *

It was another hour before the last of the Death Eaters had fled, been arrested or been killed in the case of Wilkes, another one on their wanted list. Even so, it didn’t feel like a victory: the bodies of more Muggles had been found in houses that the Aurors hadn’t been able to get to in time; there was no sign of Benjy at all, and Moody was still combing through the affected area for signs of the wizard; worst of all, Mason hadn’t said a word to Lyra or anyone since the exchange with Frank.

The village was now swarming with Aurors, Order members and a team of Memory Modders tasked with rounding up the frightened Muggles and making sure they went back to a state of blissful unawareness – except with a warning left in place to hide if danger returned. Once there was evidently no more fighting to be done, Lyra had sat down and allowed Marlene to check over her burned legs, the witch’s tanned hands working miracles with her wand and a pot of ‘cure all’ cream.

Lyra sighed happily as the last of the burning faded away to cool relief and Marlene stepped back, pleased with a job well done.

“Thank you, you’re a star,” Lyra grinned.

“You’re welcome,” she laughed, dusting her hands off and packing up her Healer’s kit. “Now where’s my idiot brother? Was he hurt?”

Lyra shook her head. “As always he avoids it by the skin of his teeth.”

“Jammy bastard,” Marlene laughed, her hair golden in the light from the Muggle streetlamps. She turned as Sirius caught up to her and kissed her quickly, wrapping his arms around her waist fiercely.

Glad that her brother was also safe, Lyra got up, testing the newly healed leg and, finding it was painless to put weight on, she set off down the street still inhabited by the assorted crowd of witches and wizards in an attempt to find Mason. She reached the end of the street with no sign of him and as she frowned, she turned slowly, surveying the rest of the village where the streetlights and magical witchlights cut off wondering if maybe he’d wanted some peace and quiet.

She didn’t see Mason but she did see a slender figure in the signature black robes of the Death Eaters but maskless. The haughty features mirrored her own and she knew who it was so instinctively that she didn't feel any fear.

“Regulus?” she said nervously, scared that speaking his name would break the spell and he'd vanish.

Her brother shifted, stepping further back down the alleyway and into the shadows that cloaked the village now the sun had fully set.

“Reg, wait,” she said, her voice catching as she lowered her wand and darted after him, praying she didn’t lose him.

Rounding the corner quickly, she slammed straight into him and the breath left her lungs as she stepped backwards quickly and glanced up into the familiar face, so similar to Sirius’.

“Hey, Lyra,” he said gently, “I’m sorry you saw me, you weren’t supposed to.”

“Reg,” she choked, flinging her arms around his neck – part of her knew this could very likely be a trap, but she didn’t care. She’d not seen or heard from Regulus since she left home in September, and they’d been more and more distant that last summer as he was drawn into the circles around the Dark Lord and she’d been kept at home in preparation for the wedding. Nothing would stop her from hugging him now. Not a trap, not orders from Moody, nothing.

He hesitated a moment and then his arms tightened around her waist, taking in a deep breath. “It’s good to see you,” Regulus said gently, pulling away and surveying her. “You look… better. The Auror robes suit you.”

“What are you doing here? Were… were you involved in the attack? I’m supposed to be _arresting you_, you idiot.”

“I wasn’t involved, no, although Bellatrix was eager for me to be,” he admitted. “And like I said, you weren’t supposed to see me. I’m here checking in on you two only and then… I’m going.”

She frowned. “Going where?”

“Listen, don’t tell Sirius you’ve seen me, okay? Don’t tell _anyone_, for that matter,” Regulus said, bending over slightly so he was at eye level with her. Although the age difference between them wasn’t much, both her brothers had taken after their father and had always been much taller than her.

Her frown deepened. “What? Why not?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m going away. There’s something I have to do, something important, and I can’t breathe a word of it to anyone, even saying this is too much but I think you’ll understand more than Sirius will. You were always the neutral ground between us.”

“Regulus, this is scaring me more than you getting that damn Mark did,” she whispered, her eyes fearful as she took a step back. “Don’t speak in riddles, you know I hate it.”

He shook his dark head, stormy grey eyes fixed on her gently. “I have to. I’m saying just enough that if… if something happens to me you could maybe find the breadcrumbs and follow it through, but that if I make it back you never have to worry about it.”

“_What_? Make it back, what do you mean?”

“Do you trust me? Do you trust that… that this,” he said, gesturing to his robes, the gilded mask gripped in one hand, “Wasn’t what I had planned for my life?”

Her lower lip trembled. “We didn’t get to plan anything.”

He chuckled slightly. “I know, but you know me, better than _anyone_ – you know no matter how ridiculous I thought Sirius’ plan was, that _this_ wasn’t mine?”

“I think you were stupid, but I Merlin knows I was too, so yes, I know that, Reg,” she said, trying to see through his desperately sad expression to find an explanation.

“Then I hope you trust that I’m trying to make it right in some small way if I can. But it might kill me. It probably will.”

“Reg-“

“I won’t try and contact you on paper, that’d leave a trail, something to be intercepted, but if there’s another battle like this, keep looking out for me, I’ll be there if I succeed. And if I’m not there, and this war doesn’t go the way you want, try going back home and seeing who is still there. Ask Kreacher some questions.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, not knowing what to say – she’d never change his mind: he didn’t have a fiery temper like her or Sirius but he was just as stubborn, maybe more so. The riddles he always spoke in, now more so than ever, drove her crazy but she couldn’t be angry at him.

“I love you,” she said after a moment. “And I hope you succeed. For your sake, but also for ours.”

“You always were the practical one,” Regulus smiled, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Guess when me and Sirius didn’t get any sense, it would all come out in you. You look good, you know? Happy. I saw you with McKinnon and he seems exactly like the kind of idiot who’s good for you. Better than that other prick.”

She laughed wetly and reached up to wipe her eyes. “He is.”

The siblings stayed quiet for a moment, Regulus in his Death Eater robes, Lyra in her Auror ones.

“_LYRA_?”

Lyra turned her head. “That’s him,” she whispered, “You should go.”

“I should,” Regulus agreed, pulling her in for a fierce hug and kissing the top of her head. “I love you, little L.

“Goodbye,” she said softly, something telling her that despite what he’d said, despite there being a chance of him making it back, this would be the last time.Her heart ached so much already.

Regulus smiled and then he was gone, the crack of apparition echoing in her ears as she stared at the spot where he’d been.

“LYRA? Oh fuck, there you are,” Mason breathed, grabbing her arm and yanking her into a hug. “What are you doing out here? Who just apparated? We have no idea if any Death Eaters are still around! You can’t just wander off, you idiot, not after a battle, not without telling someone where you a– are… are you crying?”

She shook her head quickly even as the tears rolled her down her cheeks fiercely, burning hot against her cool skin.

“A-are you hurt? What happened?!” Mason said, the anger in his voice melting away.

“Nothing, nothing happened, I’m fine,” she lied quickly, swiping the tears away and tipping her head back to look up at the sky, the stars out now and giving her enough light to just see by. “I just needed some quiet.”

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Mason murmured, his brow furrowing, “I know I’m crabby, just after everything…”

“I know,” she said, smiling weakly and kissing him quickly, her hand brushing through his hair. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have wandered off, you’re right.”

“But you’re also not a child,” he protested, “And I’m not in charge of you.”

The corner of her mouth twitched slightly despite herself. “Technically you’re the Senior Auror.”

“Alright,” he smiled, “I am in charge of you, and I order you to come back so we can go home.”

Lyra laughed, her throat hoarse as she glanced over his shoulder, still hoping her brother would still be lurking but seeing nothing except the empty street.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mason said, his voice soft. He wasn’t a fool – something had happened in this alley and there was a hollow grief in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Her gaze shifted back to him and her eyes focussed. “I love you.”

“That doesn’t answer my – _what_?”

“I love you,” she repeated, “So much. A scary amount. And I don’t want to lose you too. Not to this war, not to anything.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “Lose me _too_? What do you mean?”

“I just need you to know,” she said, her voice shaking, “Please don’t ask me to explain, I made a promise, but I need you to know that if I lost you, if you did something stupid or tried to be selfless and got yourself killed – or let yourself get killed, I – I…”

“Shh,” he soothed, cupping her cheeks in his hands and kissing her softly, “That won’t happen. I love you too, I have no plans to give that up just yet.”

She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, trying desperately to heal the hole her heart that she knew Regulus had left raw. Mason didn’t ask again – he knew some things couldn’t be said out loud, couldn’t be talked about – and they stayed there for a long time, the moon rising steadily overhead and into the cloudy night and its stars.


	16. April 1981

_2nd April 1981_

Picking through the rubble of yet another Muggle village, Lyra slipped away from Mason with a vague excuse and made her way to the edge of the Auror’s set up, scanning the streets for any sign of her brother. She’d not seen him since that day in February and every time a skirmish with the Death Eaters ended and there was no sign of him – and no sightings or reports from any Aurors or Order members at all – her heart broke a little more, knowing deep down that her instincts had been right. Whatever he’d been trying to do had killed him, and she wouldn’t see him again.

By this time, Mason had noticed what she was doing after every battle and had a sneaking suspicion that he knew _who_ she was looking for, if not _why_ she was looking and once he was done speaking to Moody he made his way over to her quietly and brushed her hand with his.

She looked up and smiled, the veil across her expression lifting slightly when she saw him. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, you,” he replied, draping an arm over her shoulders and looking down the street with her. “Are you looking for who I think you’re looking for?”

“Probably,” she admitted, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Although I’m not going to see him.”

“Why not? People change,” Mason said gently.

She shook her head and stared at the horizon, not wanting to meet his gaze. “He’s dead, I can feel it.”

Mason swallowed as he watched her – her face barely flickered and he sensed that she’d been sat on this information for a while.

“You can feel it?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “Maybe it’s wishful thinking, everyone always says they’d know if their loved ones were gone, but… I really think I know.”

She hated that she couldn’t say more, that she couldn’t break down and tell Mason everything Regulus had said that night, the riddles, following the breadcrumbs, trying to make it right again. But she’d promised him she wouldn’t tell anyone and if it was the only thing she could do for her brother now then she’d keep that promise.

“I’m sorry,” Mason whispered.

“It’s not your fault, is it?” she smiled, turning to face him properly, brushing dirt off his robes absentmindedly. “There was so much history, so much hurt there, between Sirius and Regulus, Sirius and I, Regulus and I, it was never going to end well, not when we ended up flung across all sides of this war.”

“Even so, you don’t deserve to lose him,” he murmured.

“I don’t think it’s about deserving,” she admitted, turning back towards the Aurors and taking a deep breath. “If it was, then none of _this_ would be happening.”

Mason said nothing because she was right. Painfully so.

“Come on, I guess I should actually help,” she smiled, brushing her hair back from her face and stepping forwards back towards the relief work.

He should've realised this much sooner, come to terms with it a long time ago, but Mason suddenly couldn’t swallow past the lump in his throat: he was by no means the only one fighting in this war, and definitely not the only one affected by it but so far, the only deaths they'd had to deal with had been strangers, or friends they'd mourned but hadn't known well. As Lyra headed back towards their colleagues, he stayed still, filled with the uncomfortable knowledge that Regulus was the first person even relatively close to him to _die_ in the conflict. James and Lily had gone into hiding and were, for the time being, safe. They didn’t count. Benjy had been a friend from the Order, and his death hurt, but it wasn’t the same. Mason watched Lyra’s dark hair bob back towards Moody and the others and his chest tightened – if her _brother_ had gone, who was next? How long would this war last? Would it be his family, their friends, _her_?

He swallowed his scream. Was it worse to be killed or watch others be killed? Mason didn’t want to find out.

* * *

_4th April_

Lyra technically had a day off but with Dorcas away with Frank on work business and Mason away trying to subdue the giants that had happily allied with the Dark Lord, she felt like a pixie trapped in a large box, rattling around her flat with nothing to do to quieten her mind. She’d tried reading, she’d tried tidying, she’d tried working on some new spells – something that always provided a distraction – but nothing was working. Perhaps Mason had the right idea all along: work yourself to exhaustion so at least you fell asleep the moment you had free time.

Eventually she threw down her quill in disgust and got up, scribbling a quick note to Dorcas in case she came back and worried about her – after previous incidents, neither of the girls left the flat empty without letting the other know where they were and who they were with – before she grabbed her wand, locked the flat up and apparated to just outside the Ministry.  
Once she was through the security systems and in the lift up to the second floor, her mind began to quieten. She stepped out of the lift and walked straight into a surprised Alastor Moody, who cast a quick spell to protect his cup of tea from spilling over the both of them.

“Black! Careful!” he groaned, stepping back and leaning on the cane as he steadied his hand. “I knew I should’ve stuck to levitating the damn teacups. What are you doing here?”

“I can’t just sit at home and do nothing,” she explained, trying not to look as frantic as she felt. “I know Mason is away still, but if there’s something else I can do, filing, copying, anything.”

Moody paused properly and looked at her seriously, his gruff expression smoothing out. While he had hoped she would stay away, he’d partially suspected it would come to this: most of his Aurors, even before the war, had been extremely dedicated and now in the thick of the fighting, it wasn’t unusual for senior Aurors to be in every single day. Mason was clearly rubbing off on her.

“I reckon we can find something for you to do, Black,” Moody agreed, holding the mug of tea, “First of all carry this.”

Lyra smiled and snorted, taking the hot drink anyway, “I’m not a coffee runner!”

“You work with McKinnon, you’re a coffee runner,” Moody joked as he hobbled towards his office.

Lyra watched him quietly: the Head Auror wasn’t old but he’d been in the Department since well before the war had begun and it was clear it was taking a toll. It wasn’t something anyone had talked about to her, but she’d picked up enough to know he’d lost his eye – and gained the infamous replacement – during the early battles of the war and much of the scarring covering his body was from similar tangles with Death Eaters. His leg which was still healing now was just another piece of him that he’d given up for the cause, and while she’d never say it out loud to the burly man, Lyra was infinitely grateful and in awe of him in equal parts and if he wanted her to carry his tea, she would.

“Put it there, girl, and we’ll see what we can do for you. Now what of this mess isn’t tangled in Order business?” he muttered, scanning the piles of paper with his magical eye, sorting through which ones she could see and which ones she couldn’t. Obviously she knew about the Order, and Moody knew she knew, but as she wasn’t a member, she still wasn’t privy to the information they received, even if Mason would then pass along the things relevant to their work.

“Here,” Moody said triumphantly, grabbing a stack of files and untangling them from the others on his side table. Lyra stepped forwards and took the files with a little smile, settling herself at the second, unused desk in Moody’s office. “I reckon they just need checking through, dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s, you know the drill.”

“Will you let me tidy up once I’ve done these?” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching as she surveyed the state of the room.

“Why, do you like being a maid?” Moody chuckled.

“No, I _feel_ panicked just being in here,” she laughed, shrugging.

Moody glanced back at her. “I bet you like things just so, don’t you?”

“I do, sir, but I’m sure you’ll believe me when I say Mason is worse, but only with work stuff.”

He laughed loudly and nodded emphatically, “Oh I do believe you, Black, doesn’t surprise me at all.”

There was a pause and then Moody looked over at her again. “Uh, Black, listen, you and McKinnon-“

“Oh Merlin.”

“I’m not about to give you the birds and the bees, don’t have a heart attack,” Moody said, looking extremely uncomfortable as he shook his head firmly, “I just… I am _aware_ that there’s no family – Merlin knows Sirius doesn’t count as responsible – and I just wanted you to know that _if_ there were any… problems-“

“Sir, you really don’t need to-“

“Listen to me, girl, I would be – be around, if you needed,” he finished.

Lyra’s cheeks were burning hotter than they ever had before and she nodded hastily. “Understood, thank you.”

“Not just problems with _him_, just with anything. I’m, I guess you would say, fond of you,” Moody added, smiling slightly and Lyra laughed too, breathing out.

“Thank you, sir. I guess you would say I’m fond of you too.”

“And don’t you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ve got a reputation to maintain!” Moody grinned.

Lyra picked her quill back up again and snorted, “A word of what?”

“I knew I liked you,” he laughed as they settled down to work.

It didn’t take long for her to break the silence.

“Moody?”

“Hmm?” the man replied with a noncommittal grunt.

“I want to join the Order.”

Moody glanced up quickly, his attention now fully on her.

“I just think it’s ridiculous at this point, all this work that I can’t help you with because it’s secret, it’s ridiculous and there’s not much difference between the Aurors and the Order these days when we can also use Unforgiveables and are expected to do so.”

“I’ll never forgive Barty Crouch for that,” Moody muttered.

“And anyway, surely I’d be a far more effective Auror if I actually knew all the information and was working with you guys as well,” she added, licking her lips. “And… I want to do more to help. I never thought I would, but… here we are.”

“You know you don’t need to convince me, right?” Moody shrugged, “I’ll let Albus know, he’ll send you the letter as soon as he can. We need all the damn help we can get, he’s hardly going to say no.”

Lyra smiled slightly. “Thank you.”

That hadn’t been the climax she’d expected, but then again the decision no longer felt like a momentous one, but a natural extension of what she was already doing and what she believed she should be doing.

“Being honest, Black, we both knew it was a matter of time,” he added with a smug smile.

She rolled her eyes. “I guess. Thank you though. It’s nice to be trusted.”

Moody scoffed. “I trusted you from the very first time you turned up in my office, Albus however, is a tad more paranoid than I am. Although I do believe I’m catching up.”

“I’ll let you know if you go too far,” she teased, slowly scanning through the sheafs of paper and correcting as she went.

It was several hours later before Lyra stirred from her seat, the fairly mindless task she’d been given providing enough distraction from her worrying until the noise level outside rose and she frowned.

“If we kill them all off then we’re as bad as they are!”

Lyra recognised that voice and she yanked Moody’s office door open hastily in her rush to find out why Mason was yelling in the middle of the Auror department.

“They sided with You-Know-Who and therefore they will be eliminated the same as the Death Eaters,” Crouch said snidely.

Mason laughed and stepped forwards, jabbing his finger at the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement angrily. “We should’ve tried to head this off years ago, all of these attacks are partially our fault – your fault – for not allowing us to try and make contact with them earlier!”

Lyra assumed this was about the giants – Voldemort had recruited them early in the war, knowing their resentment at being forced into smaller and smaller territories would make them natural allies against the British Ministry and he had been right. The giant tribes had been more than eager to attack where directed, and there were more and more Muggle deaths every day at the hands, feet, clubs of the magical creatures. The Aurors had been forced to fight them back multiple times already and it was set to get worse as more tribes mobilised against the government, encouraged by Voldemort.

“They are evil creatures and now they have sided with evil we have no choice-“

“There’s always a choice,” Mason snarled. “If we murder them, why would they stop? Why the _fuck_ would they stop listening to Voldemort if you force them against us?”

Crouch looked furious – his thin lips were pressed together so tightly that they were turning white and a vein was throbbing in his forehead. “Auror McKinnon. You are not Head of this Auror Headquarters, nor Head of this Department and I suggest you watch how you talk to me.”

“No, I won’t,” Mason spat. “You need every Auror you can get, you know I’m good, firing me would be the end of your career and you _know it_. So seeing as you’re stuck with me, you can damn well stay and listen to me now.”

The other Aurors were gathering around, half curious half fearful. Mason rarely lost his temper, but Barty Crouch was a very unpopular figure, especially since his brutal approach to the war had forced Aurors to adopt the Unforgiveables and a 'kill first ask questions later mentality', which many found abhorrent.

“You are the reason these attacks are getting worse. I hope you feel the guilt for every single Muggle we saw today who was killed because you turned the giants against us and forced them into Voldemort’s hand!”

“Don’t say his _name_,” Crouch hissed, raising his fist furiously.

Moody had finally followed her outside and was glaring at both men with such burning ferocity that Lyra was surprised their clothes didn’t catch fire.

“McKinnon, my office - _now_,” he snapped in a tone that Mason knew wasn’t to be questioned.

He spat once more at Crouch’s feet and stormed into the office as Barty glared daggers after him.

“Crouch get out of my Auror office,” Moody said sharply, “I’m not in the mood for you either today. The boy is right and you’d see it if you weren’t so far up your own arse.”

Barty opened his mouth again, the vein on his forehead set to burst any second.

“Don’t even try it,” Moody scoffed, “He was right when he said you can’t fire him, and you won’t fire me. Barty Crouch firing Alastor Moody? Social suicide. Get out of here and stop meddling where you don’t belong, Head of Department or not.”

The thin man glared at Moody for a long second before he turned sharply on his heels and stormed out, muttering obscenities as he went. Moody just rolled both his eyes and clunked into the office after Mason.

Lyra blinked and shook her head, shooting Kingsley Shacklebolt a look of confusion. The older man shrugged slightly and nodded towards the office and Lyra agreed that she should probably follow Mason and waved quickly to him before she slipped in quickly behind them.

“McKinnon, you can’t just shout at the Head of Department like that even if what you’re saying is right!” Moody snapped as Lyra shut the door behind her and regarded the pair of them with wide eyes.

“I’ll say whatever I want to that bastard, he’s just as bad as they are and you know it!”

“I do know it, and you damn well know that I am the bloody _leader_ of the anti-Crouch movement in this place,” Moody snapped back, “But that doesn’t mean you go about it like that, you idiot! He’s angling for Minister, you can’t afford to piss him off!”

Mason jutted his chin out angrily and started pacing the room. “At this rate he’ll wipe the giants out – he just orders us to kill them and the Aurors who agree with him will do it, it’s _orders_ after all! I’m not a giant lover, but I also will not stand there and execute them for this, they weren’t just hurting the ones that had been attacking, but any of them in the area, _any_ giant they saw! How are we better than Death Eaters if we kill innocents, regardless if they’re Muggles or giants?!”

“You’re preaching to the choir, boy,” Moody growled.

Mason fell into a brooding silence and continued to pace.

“Moody, do you not have authority to stop Crouch’s orders if they relate to Aurors?” Lyra suggested.

Moody rubbed his temples in frustration. “Yes and no. Unfortunately because he’s head of the whole department and I’m only in charge of you lot, he can order me to give orders. So even if I say no to the attacks in return, there’s not much I could do if he decides to go over my head. And there’s not enough people willing to directly oppose him for disobedience to hold – despite his attitude, he’s very good at his job even if he’s… lost the damn plot the last year.”

She sighed. “Right, well that’s that plan out of the window.”

“If it helps, Dumbledore is going to try and make contact with some of the other tribes that haven’t yet declared for Voldemort and get some Order members to see if we can’t either swing them in our favour or at least cause enough internal tribal conflict that they stop attacking Muggle settlements.”

“Moody, she can’t know that,” Mason muttered, turning to stare at the pair of them. “What the hell?”

Moody shrugged. “She’s joined, so yes she can.”

Mason’s gaze turned and fixed on her. “You’ve _what_?”

Lyra huffed. “Moody!”

“Sorry, hadn’t realised you weren’t telling him!”

“I was going to – but not right now!”

“You’ve joined the Order?” Mason demanded, running a hand through his hair restlessly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“Why?!”

“I would imagine for the same reasons that you’re in it,” she said coolly, “Please don’t be a jerk.”

“I’m not being a jerk, I just think you should’ve – should’ve considered it properly! It’s not safe!”

“Agreed, it’s not. Neither is my job here,” she pointed out, trying to patient because she knew he wasn’t angry with her but was just scared for her and already wound up.

“It’s too dangerous!”

“You do it.”

“That’s – that’s different!” he protested, shaking his head as he headed over to her. “I don’t want you involved with it!”

She scowled, the little patience she had rapidly growing thin. “Why not?”

Mason seemed stumped and he spluttered for a minute, trying to work out what he meant. “Because – because you just… it’s just different!”

She huffed and threw her hands in the air. “Right, of course it is. You can throw yourself in front of any danger coming your way but Merlin forbid someone else try and do it, then it’s reckless! You’re not my babysitter, Mason!”

He started to speak again but she put her hand up and he stopped quickly, sensing that he’d crossed the line.

“The files are done, Moody,” she said quickly, depositing them neatly on the end of his desk and grabbing her coat. “I can help you tidy up when I’m back in tomorrow if you want?”

Moody eyed her carefully but nodded and watched her go, holding his cane across Mason’s chest to stop him trying to follow.

“Don’t, boy.”

“But Alastor, I-“

“You were a twat, you know that?” he said sharply, rolling his eyes.

Mason muttered under his breath and took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said sulkily. “I j-“

“If the next word out your mouth is ‘just’ then it’s an excuse and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care if you’re scared for her or want her safe, I’m sure she also thinks the same about you but she would never tell you to stop doing what you do,” he said gruffly.

Mason cursed again because his boss was right. “I fucking hate this.”

“No one said it would be easy,” Moody laughed, shrugging slightly and sitting back down. “Love isn’t that straightforward. Sometimes you’ve got to work on it.”

“And what would you know of it?” Mason said crabbily – it had been a long day, he was worked up and exhausted and this fight was just one more thing to worry about.

Moody just chuckled. “More than you do, you’re still a baby, McKinnon.”

Mason just rolled his eyes and headed for the door. “Whatever. I’m not following her I promise, I’m going home. I’ll be back in the morning as usual.”

Moody glanced at the clock and sighed. “As usual. See you then.”

* * *

Lyra honestly didn’t know if she wanted Mason to come after her or not. On one hand, she wanted to scream at him properly for his ridiculous sudden protectiveness; on the other, she understood, she’d been there and seen him put himself in dangerous situations and it upset her every time. But it still didn’t give him the right to try and tell her what to do. The flat was still empty when she got in so she crumpled up the note for Dorcas and flicked on the kettle, pulling on another jumped and curling up in the armchair, staring at the fireplace and knowing she should light a fire or turn the heating on but not wanting to just yet.

The kettle had long since boiled and there hadn’t been any sign from Mason that he was intending to follow her so she buried her face in the pillows and screamed for a moment before she sat up and took a deep breath. She didn’t know when Dorcas was coming home so she slowly changed into her pyjamas and curled up in bed with her cup of tea. The book from earlier in the day still lay discarded on the covers but it still didn’t interest her.

With a sudden sad realisation, Lyra picked up her wand, closed her eyes and focussed on casting the spell and the memories she’d chosen. Once she felt it working, she opened her eyes slowly, almost scared of what she would see.

The silver creature moved around the small bedroom curiously, trotting backwards and forwards at the end of her bed like it was actually contained to the space and not able to move through the furniture and walls. She sucked in a breath as she watched its skeletal head turn to watch her. Somehow, despite having no pupils, the thestral’s silvery grey eyes watched her and even though she knew it wasn’t a real animal, she reached out her hand towards it, shuffling carefully towards the end of the bed.

She thought vaguely that perhaps it knew that the memories of Mason she’d used to cast the charm were tinted with sadness because it seemed far calmer than any other Patronus she’d seen – although maybe that was just thestrals, or just her.

“Hey, beautiful,” she whispered, feeling slightly ridiculous talking to it even if she was alone in the flat.

The horse’s skeletal tail flicked behind it and shuffled closer again, watching it softly.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she started quietly, “But I really wish I wasn’t able to see you. The last time I cast this spell it was October and… and I’d never seen death. Never understood it. I hate that I do now.”

She took a deep breath. “And I feel bad for being mad at him, because what if something happens and he… if I never saw him again and he never knew I wasn’t really mad at him? But also why should _I_ apologise, I did nothing wrong! Does this even make sense? I’m talking to a Patronus! A ghost horse!”

The thestral stayed silent – of course it did – and Lyra flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. She wiped at her eyes furiously to stop herself from crying and yelled in frustration.

With a little musical noise, the animal moved around to the side of the bed and hung its sleek head over her body, its nostrils flaring slightly as its neck arched, tipping its head backwards and forwards in confusion.

Lyra let out a wet laugh and sat back up so it could see she was alright. She guessed that since they were designed to protect the caster, it was trying to ‘protect’ her now, despite no Dementors being present.

“You’re just a little sweetheart, aren’t you?” she said gently, grabbing a tissue off the side and blowing her nose. “Maybe I am glad I can see you after all. This wouldn’t be nearly as comforting as if you were just silver smoke.”

She fell quiet for a moment as she tried to dry her eyes and failed. There was something heavy and sad about the animal’s presence and even if she was awed at such a rare creature being her Patronus, the knowledge that seeing it meant part of her had irreparably changed was upsetting – it was visible proof that she was no longer the person she was in October, for better or worse, and there was no way to reverse time and undo it. The Lyra then had been colder, more reserved and more defensive and she was proud of herself for her decisions since then but she still ached for the simplicity of knowing she only had herself to worry about. No best friend, no brothers, no boyfriend, no one who would leave a scar if they left, no one to be scarred if she was gone.

“It was simpler then,” she finally said out loud, her Patronus still lighting up the bedroom with its moon-like glow. “But I don’t know if it was better. The war would’ve affected me one way or another, and while being here could still end up with me hurt or heartbroken at least I’m not married to Robert.”

The thestral’s ears twitched nervously and she laughed, “Yeah, I know how you feel, my thoughts exactly. He’s not here now, you don’t need to worry.”

She wished she could stroke the Patronus but knowing her hand would just fall straight through, or even disrupt the spell and cause it to vanish made her keep her hands in her lap. “Do you think I should go and see Mason or wait for him to come and see me? Either way I’ll see him in the morning but I don’t like going to bed on an argument, if you can even call it that.”

Its tail swished again and it shifted on its slender hooves, turning his head to look at the door.

“Damn it,” she muttered, “I guess that’s you saying I should go to him? Fine.”

Lyra looked up as she heard the front door unlocking and she smiled slightly. “That’ll be Dorcas home. Guess I should end this spell, huh?”

The thestral blinked slowly, still watching her.

“Thank you for listening to me,” she smiled, grabbing her wand. “And for not thinking I’m crazy.”

She felt bad as she ended her focus and watched the horse fade away but she could hear Dorcas bustling around in the living room so she slipped out, her arms wrapped around herself and smiled.

“Hey, you’re home!”

“I am!” Dorcas cheered, hurrying over to hug her tightly, “And I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Dorky,” Lyra laughed, watching her friend darting round to light the fire, drag the curtains shut and turn the oven on to ward off the evening chill.

“Have you been out today or what?” she snorted. “This place is freezing!”

“I went into work, I couldn’t relax,” Lyra admitted, curling up on one of their armchairs with a little smile. “Although I maybe should’ve stayed at home.”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“Well, I… I joined the Order,” Lyra smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears, “Moody said I’d get the letter from Professor Dumbledore in the next few days but I am a member, he said it was good to have me.”

“Oh thank FUCK!” Dorcas said, chest heaving. “I hated keeping stuff from you even if you knew I was keeping it from you! Now we can actually talk about it all!”

Lyra laughed, “I’m pleased too. Mason was… less pleased.”

Dorcas stopped to look at her, her bag of frozen peas in her hand. “Are you joking?”

Lyra pulled a face.

“Oh God he’s such an idiot!” Dorcas huffed, “I’ll go over and hex his balls off, what did he say?”

“No need for that, Lyra promised, “He was just… not impressed. He said it was dangerous, but it was different when he did it and he wouldn’t say _why_ it was different.”

“I mean we know why he thinks it’s different,” Dorcas muttered.

“He’s got a hero complex?” Lyra drawled, “I know, and he knows that I know about his sacrifice nonsense, but he was just… he was a dick!”

“Men ain’t shit,” Dorcas grinned, leaning over and kissing Lyra’s forehead before trotting back to put her dinner in the oven, the pan of water boiling too.

“Agreed,” Lyra snorted. “But I think I should go over and check on him, he had a shit day and I doubt this will have helped.”

“You’re far nicer than I am,” Dorcas teased, “I’d leave the boy to wallow for a bit first.”

“Oh I know you would,” Lyra smirked, “I just… don’t like going to bed on a fight, I don’t hold grudges, you know?”

“I know, you’re a far better person than I am, sweetheart.”

“I’m not better, I’m a pushover, I just don’t think it helps me if I’m wasting my time staying mad at people, but it means I don’t stay mad when I should sometimes,” she snorted.

“If it helps, I don’t think you should stay mad either. Hear him out, let him apologise, we both know he’s a good guy,” Dorcas pointed out.

The two girls looked up at a knock on the door.

Dorcas laughed, “In fact, if that’s not him now I’ll eat my wand.”

Lyra rolled her eyes and tiptoed over to the door, peering through the peephole to reveal it was in fact Mason, looking very distressed.

“Security question,” Lyra said quietly through the door, “Who did you have an argument with today?”

“Barty Crouch, you and also Moody if that counts, none of which I’m proud of,” Mason muttered, leaning his hand on the doorframe. “Can I please come in?”

Dorcas snorted from behind Lyra as her flatmate took the chain off the door and opened it slowly, looking up at him with her eyes wide.

“Ly, I-“

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, cutting him off quickly, “I shouldn’t have stormed off.”

Mason blinked. “You also absolutely shouldn’t have apologised first, you did nothing wrong.”

He shut the door behind him carefully and glanced up at Dorcas who quickly made herself ‘scarce’ in the kitchen although she was peering around the corner every few seconds.

Lyra shook her head. “Yeah, you were a dick, but I didn’t need to run away. Since when did that solve anything?”

Mason shrugged with a rueful smile and brought out the slightly squashed flowers from behind his back. “It didn’t, but I’m hoping me coming over to grovel and bribe you with flowers will solve it.”

Lyra grinned reluctantly and took the bouquet, smelling it quickly and rolling her eyes at him. “Where on earth did you find sweet peas in April?!”

“I didn’t, I remembered you liked them and, well, we’re magic for a reason,” he snorted, pulling her closer gently. “But listen – no matter how mad I was with Crouch, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You’re right, it’s no different you joining the Order than me joining, and… I’m proud of you. Even if the thought of you being in more danger scares the shit out of me, I’m with you whatever happens.”

“But the thing is, I’m not in any more danger, not really,” she whispered. “I’m already an Auror and a blood traitor, I’ve been disowned just like Sirius, and upset Avery in the process. The Order doesn’t make me more of a target and it might mean I know a little bit more about what’s going on.”

“I hate when you’re right,” Mason grumbled, wrapping his arms around her waist and taking a deep breath. “I didn’t see it like that, I was way too wrapped up in protecting you that I didn’t stop to consider that maybe you didn’t need me to protect you.”

She tipped her head to one side and set the flowers down so she could kiss him softly. “I love that you want to protect me, and sometimes I appreciate it, but not in this.” Her mouth quirked into a grin, “And anyway, we both know you hate duelling without me.”

Rolling his eyes, he kissed her again apologetically. “Am I forgiven?”

She pretended to consider it for a moment longer. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Depends if you’re staying here tonight,” she said, glancing up at him from under her eyelashes. “You can continue to make it up to me if you want?”

Dorcas made a disgusted noise from the kitchen. “I shouldn’t have listened in, God, you’re so _horny_! Every damn conversation with you two!”

Lyra sniggered slightly as Mason’s sombre expression creased as he laughed.

“If you’re loud like the other night… I swear to God!”

“Lyra was – swearing to God that is,” Mason called back and Dorcas made another vomit noise and appeared in the doorway covering her ears.

“You can’t shag all your problems away!” she whined.

Lyra shrugged. “We can definitely try though.”

Mason grinned and kissed her along her jaw teasingly, forcing Dorcas to retreat into the kitchen again.

“And you’re not mad? Because I can make it up to you properly, you know, all jokes aside,” Mason checked, pausing kissing her for a second.

Lyra huffed slightly. “I never stay mad, I’m not mad, and now the only thing winding me up is the fact that we aren’t in my room already.”

Mason laughed and scooped her up, relieved. “Well that can be fixed very easily. Maybe we can cast some silencing spells to protect poor Dorcas too.”

“I think she’d appreciate it,” Lyra giggled as Mason carried her through and set her down by her bed.

Mason laughed and waved his wand absentmindedly to cast the spells before dumping his wand and tugging her jumper over her head lovingly, admiring the exposed line of her collarbone, her dark curls just brushing her shoulders.

“I hate being mad at you, let’s not fight again,” Lyra mumbled, leaning up to kiss him again and slowly unbuttoning his white shirt as he slid his warm hands up under her tank top, spreading over her skin gently.

“Agreed, although it’s me who has the temper not you,” he chuckled, discarding her top quickly and tugging down the loose trousers to leave her in her underwear.

She scoffed, “It’s absolutely not you with the temper, you shout and I sulk, you’ve just not seen me properly angry yet.”

“Terrifying,” he grinned up at her as he got down on his knees, his hands cupping the backs of her thighs.

“What are you doing?” she asked, smiling slightly as he hooked a finger around her knickers and tugged them down lazily.

“Down here? Making it up to you,” he smirked, kissing her lower stomach lightly as she took a quick gasp of air at the barely-there touch of his lips. He lifted her ever so slightly so she was sat on the very edge of the bed and skated his hands up her legs.

Her anger had melted away a long time ago but it was definitely gone by the time his hands were on her and once his hands had been replaced by his mouth, she barely remembered why she’d been mad at all.


	17. April 1981

_14th April 1981_

Dorcas’s chattering and Mason’s arm around her shoulders kept Lyra anchored to the present as the trio dusted themselves off from the fireplace and moved further into the murky pub, Aberforth nodding them over to the private room at the back with a surly expression on his face.

“Guess Dumbledore is feeling fancy today, not doing this at Headquarters,” Dorcas muttered, opening the door first and heading inside, cheering when she saw the three Marauders already around a table with seats to spare.

“Or with a new member here he thought it best not to allow them immediate access to headquarters?” Lyra finished dryly, glancing back at Mason as he shut the door firmly.

“Now I think about it, we only come here when there’s someone new so… you’re probably right,” Mason snorted.

“I’m a genius, what can I say,” she said breezily and Mason laughed as he sat down, tugging her onto his lap before greeting the boys and Marlene happily, leaning back on the seat.

“Nice to see you, Lyra,” Remus grinned, sitting up straighter in his chair and shooting Sirius a sidelong look – her brother didn’t seem too bothered either way by her appearance. “What made you change your mind?”

Lyra shrugged. “I don’t know. Something just finally felt right, so here I am.”

Sirius cleaned under his nails grumpily and folded his arms across his chest.

Marlene pouted teasingly and ruffled his curls. “Ignore him,” she said to Lyra who had raised an eyebrow at her brother’s attitude, “He’s just sulking. He’s suddenly decided he has a hero complex and doesn’t want you involved.”

Lyra rolled her eyes and jabbed her finger at Mason. “That makes two of them. What is it, do I look any more breakable than you two?”

Mason snorted and glanced between the tall, fierce-eyed Dorcas, Marlene with her gaudy oversized jumper and explosive curls and then back at his girlfriend. Her serious expression and tiny frame hardly screamed dangerous, but he’d also been on the other end of her duelling and knew her appearance was nothing to judge her by.

“I mean,” he started, hiding a grin, “You do look…”

She narrowed her eyes slightly and Marlene giggled.

“Tread carefully, sweetheart,” Lyra said, amused.

Mason snorted and gestured across at the other girls. “You’re _tiny_, Ly. You _absolutely_ look more breakable!”

“However,” Dorcas butted in with a wicked grin, “I’d rather duel Dumbledore himself than you, babydoll. We all know you kick ass, and if Sirius doesn’t get over himself, we’ll kick his ass with you.”

Marlene laughed loudly and planted a kiss on Sirius’ cheek.

Remus chuckled and ran a hand through his hair tiredly. “I’d pay to see that. Do you reckon we’ve got much to discuss today? Like, do you think we’ll be here late?”

“Why, got somewhere to be?” Sirius muttered, glancing across at his friend sullenly.

Peter blinked and held his hands up in surrender, knowing already that he was staying out of this. The others all looked awkward too, and Remus took a deep breath and looked the other way – he alone knew of Sirius’ deepening suspicions and it wasn’t like he was entirely without them himself. It wasn't worth getting into right now.

Marlene once again rolled her eyes at Sirius and mouthed ‘behave’ to him before turning to look for Dumbledore or Moody.

She didn’t have to look for long and eventually Dumbledore swept in from speaking to his brother, introduced Lyra to everyone (although she had no doubts that they all, even those that weren’t her friends, knew who she was – the Blacks were an infamous family) and continued right into business as usual, knowing that the longer the meetings were, the more obvious it could be to anyone watching them that they were happening.

Mason tried to keep listening but he couldn’t help wrap his arms around Lyra little tighter as he glanced around the room, doing a mental register of who was in the room: James, Lily and baby Harry were gone, blanketed in magic and hidden away for Merlin knew how long; Caradoc had never been found, his family grieving and his name unmentioned for months as everyone still processed the disappearance; Gideon and Fabian gone too, their freckles and antics visibly missing, the mood of their group forever changed; Benjy dead and found in such a state that Mason hadn’t even been able to hear the details of it from Frank; Edgar Bones, struggling under the weight of his grief and thinner than Mason had ever seen him.

The remaining witches and wizards were all watching Dumbledore intently, so he found his eyes running over them too and it was clear that the years of the war were slowly but surely wearing them all down too, despite their fight and anger and determination. The group was thinning out, the fighting was reaching a crescendo, there was seemingly no way to kill the man – the monster – behind it all.

He could feel Lyra’s warmth radiating into him from where she was tucked against his body and he found himself staring blankly at the wall, his thumb tracing the back of her hand gently where it rested on her lap.

While Mason was still worried that her joining made her more of a target in the eyes of her enemies – Robert Avery could very easily decide that he wouldn’t bother trying to bring her back into the fold when he could outright kill her – he was also insanely proud. In late night conversations after his nightmares, rolled up in the blankets and mumbling into each other’s shoulders, they always talked honestly to one another, even if they weren’t always proud of their thoughts. He knew she still struggled with who she was, with what she’d been brought up to believe and fought to shake off even now. He knew she hated that her gut reaction was to retreat back to that, to not put her neck on the line, to hide behind the ignorance that she’d allowed herself to live with. Mason knew everything: that she still didn’t get Dorcas’ sexuality, or his – not fully – that she worried about what she believed in, who she’d been shaped into in the eighteen years before she left. He knew she was working through all of that and knew she wasn’t perfect by a long shot. He also knew that she wouldn’t have joined the Order if she didn’t believe in it and even if he’d never doubted her, he hoped she didn’t doubt herself anymore.

Carefully he pressed a kiss to her hair and then to her shoulder and he saw the corner of her mouth curve upwards into a private smile, her eyes still trained on their old headmaster.

Managing to focus for the rest of Dumbledore’s update, Mason stretched his legs out with relief when the old man stepped back out of the room to head back to Hogwarts. Lyra snorted as Mason yawned and stood up, picking her up with him as he did. He set her down gently and stole another kiss.

“Could’ve called this,” a clear voice said from just behind them and Mason winced slightly as he pulled away.

“Hi, Edgar.”

Lyra turned quickly, a flush of embarrassment and anger rising in her and turning her cheeks red. “You’re here?”

“I could say the same about you, didn’t take you as the hero type,” Edgar said, trying to keep his voice light and jokey as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Didn’t take you for that type either, last I heard you enjoyed picking on girls who you thought would be scared of you,” she snapped and Mason cast Edgar a quick supportive glance – despite everything, he did think the last six months had changed Edgar and forced him to grow up much faster than he would’ve done before. Even trying to apologise took balls.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Edgar said simply, “I deserved to be kicked out for it. I… I shoved all my fears about the war onto you just because of your last name and that’s shitty.”

She huffed. “You didn’t just shove your fears onto me, you dick! You used training to hold one over me, to try and _hurt_ me!”

“I know,” he said quietly, watching her. “I can’t take that back, I can’t undo that, I just… I wish I hadn’t. I spent a lot of time before that angry, and a lot of time after too, but… people die too easily and I shouldn’t have been angry at you. You didn’t start this war, and you weren’t continuing it.”

There was something in his voice that upset her – this wasn’t the boy who’d continued to hit her after he’d been told to stop, this wasn’t the boy who’d accused her of being her cousin.

“Who did you lose?” she asked quietly, tugging the sleeves of her jumper over her hands as she glanced up at him.

His jaw clenched and he looked over her head, taking a deep breath. “My parents, my sister, my niece and nephew. The same attack.”

“Edgar, I… I’m sorry,” she breathed, staring at him in horror. A whole family gone, just like that…

Edgar looked towards Mason and guessed that the Auror hadn’t mentioned his connection to the situation, and he wouldn’t be the one to tell Lyra. It wasn’t a day he liked to think about, anyway.

“Listen,” she said slowly, hoping she didn’t sound pitying, “I… I don’t hold grudges. And I think you’re a different person to back then. I don’t _blame_ you for putting those feelings onto me, even if I wish you hadn’t done it. You’re right, people die too easily and I don’t want to think that you hate me, or resent me, or vice versa. I was angry, but I don't want to stay angry.”

Edgar looked at her in surprise, evidently having not been expecting his apology to be accepted.

“We’re okay, if you want to be okay?” she smiled.

He let out a huff of air as he watched her. He’d not seen her since his last day at Auror training and he couldn’t help but notice the change in her too. They’d switched places, really: she looked healthy, determined, loved, and he was a stone lighter and exhausted. She didn’t have to forgive him – joining the Order and becoming friendly with Sirius had taught him what his violence could’ve triggered for her – but she had, and he didn’t want to hold grudges either. He blinked and noticed that she’d extended her hand out to him.

“I want to be okay,” he smiled slightly and shook her hand. “I’m glad.”

“I didn’t expect this to happen tonight,” she snorted, “But I’m glad too.”

Edgar dropped her hand and laughed, shrugging, “Everything is getting more and more unexpected these days. But hey, you and McKinnon, huh?”

She rolled her eyes and glanced over to where Mason was sat talking to Marlene. “Believe me, I think it was more inevitable than unexpected. We were the last to see it, apparently.”

Edgar chuckled and ran his hand through his messy blonde hair. “Well I’m glad it worked out for you guys. I should probably be going but… it was nice to see you,” he said tentatively.

Lyra smiled back softly and nodded. “It was nice to see you too.”

He laughed slightly at that and nodded before slipping back out of the pub.

Lyra watched him go and then turned back to the others, feeling the old wound finally close over. She joined the others, wedging herself between Mason and Marlene with a grin as she tuned into the conversation.

“We’d know if they weren’t okay,” Remus shrugged calmly. “So we have to assume they are okay, right?”

“I agree with Rem,” Marlene smiled, “No news is good news, especially when they’re hiding. Dumbledore mentioned that they would try and write to us, but it wasn’t going to be particularly often in case the owls were followed back.”

“Are we able to go and see them?” Dorcas chimed in, worrying her lip as she glanced around their circle.

Sirius leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “Dumbledore says it’s a bad idea. The more people going to and from the house, the more likely it is that someone cottons on.”

Marlene huffed and leaned her face in her hands. “I _hate_ this.”

“It always feels like there’s a piece of us missing,” Peter agreed darkly, “I wish the war was over.”

“Don’t we all,” Mason muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Well some people clearly don’t,” Sirius added sharply. “You know Moody thinks there’s a mole.”

“I don’t believe it for a second,” Dorcas said firmly, “And you should shut up, Sirius. Talking about it doesn’t help anyone at all.”

His scowl deepened and he turned his gaze on her. “Yeah? Doesn’t it? If I ever find the fucker…”

Lyra didn’t like the way her brother’s eyes swept around their friends like one of them was about to yank their sleeve up to reveal a Dark Mark. “I think Dorcas just means that trying to stir things up and suspecting everyone all the time will only make you feel worse, not that you shouldn’t be careful.”

“Thank you,” Dorcas said exasperated. “Sirius, we are not the enemy. If there is someone feeding information to them then that’s awful and I am _obviously_ concerned but analysing everything and questioning everyone behind their backs is insane!”

“We have to stick together, mate,” Mason added quietly, glancing across at Sirius with concern shining in his eyes.

“Right,” Sirius mumbled, knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with them when they were like this. “Whatever.”

Marlene sighed and ran her hands through his hair soothingly as general chatter resumed once again until Aberforth came in to kick them out. They dispersed reluctantly, pulling on their jackets as slowly as they could while the bartender kept his eye on them.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow, yeah?” Marlene checked, squeezing Lyra’s hand quickly as her and Mason headed for the front door. “Don’t be late or Mum will panic.”

“You think I don’t know that, Mar?” Mason laughed, pulling his sister in for a tight hug. “We’ll be there before the clock strikes midday, I promise.”

“Don’t act like you’re the punctual one,” Lyra protested, poking his side. “I’ll make sure we’re there, Marlene. Promise.”

“I believe her over you, Mase, sorry,” Marlene grinned and kissed Mason’s cheek before darting back to find Sirius. “See you then!”

“She’s the worst of the bunch, if you can manage Marlene then you can manage the rest of my family,” Mason added to Lyra with a chuckle.

“It’s not _meeting_ them that’s stressing me out, it’s knowing they’re your family and they matter to you.”

Mason snorted and gave her a funny look. “You just said the same thing twice.”

She wrinkled her nose up at him and huffed. “No! I can definitely manage them, I’m sure they’re lovely and I'm very good at socialising after years of being forced to greet random people, but I’m stressing because it’s your parents, your brother! I want to make a good impression!”

He just laughed as they apparated back to his flat. “You have nothing to worry about, I promise. If they can love Sirius, they’ll love you.”

“_That_ I can believe.”

* * *

_15th April_

“Stop fiddling, you look perfect,” Mason promised, kissing the top of her hair and tugging her hands away from the braid. “Mum wouldn’t care if you rocked up in a bin bag.”

“I would,” Lyra protested but she was smiling as Mason knocked and then opened the door, tugging her in after him.

“Muuuuum!” he called, “We’re here! On time!”

There was the sound of a tray being put down and then a kid’s delighted yell.

“Miracles never cease!” Marie McKinnon called from the other room, “Mark, don’t go so fast – Mark!” she laughed.

“Mason!” the boy yelled, wheeling his chair through from the kitchen where he’d been ‘helping’ and barrelling straight into Mason’s legs, stopping himself just in time, causing only minimal damage.

“Hey, kiddo! Careful of my shins, yeah, I kind of need those,” Mason grinned, bending down to scoop his little brother out of his wheelchair and turning back to Lyra. “Introductions, of course, stop wriggling, Marky!”

Lyra laughed at the tiny male version of Marlene, unruly blonde curls included, in Mason’s arms.

“Hello,” Mark began happily, “I’m Mark and I’m ten, and you’re Mason’s girlfriend!”

“You are, and I am,” she snorted, glancing up as Marlene appeared beaming at the top of the stairs.

“Does that mean you two kiss and-“

“Enough from you,” Mason said, his hand over Mark’s mouth muffling his speech until all they could hear was excitable giggling.

Marie slipped through from the kitchen once she’d made sure Mark hadn’t knocked anything over in his mad dash to the front door and she kissed Mason’s cheek before turning to Lyra, who was already fiddling with her hair again nervously.

“Hi, Mrs McKinnon, it’s lovely to meet you,” she smiled.

Marie tutted. “Marie to you. It’s lovely to meet you too! We’ve heard so much about you!” she laughed, wrapping her arms around her tightly and kissing her forehead. Marie wasn’t exactly tall, Mason and Marlene’s height came from their father, but she still managed to tuck Lyra under her chin and squeeze her. “Now obviously we know all about the family nonsense and you don’t have to worry about us putting our foot in it, we’ve been there and done that with Sirius.”

Lyra’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, no, it’s okay, you wouldn’t have put your foot in it anyway!”

Mason gave his mum a look to tell her that they absolutely could have, and that they should still be cautious and he trailed after his mum and Lyra with Mark in one arm and his wheelchair in the other.

“Lunch won’t be too long, I’m actually running late myself for once, which is embarrassing, but make yourself at home, please,” Marie added, “Mark, do you want to keep an eye on the puppy or not?”

Mark giggled and Mason set him back in his chair so he could disappear to track down the golden retriever puppy that his father had (not so) reluctantly permitted them to get.

“Do you want a drink of anything?” Mason smiled, slipping his arm around Lyra’s waist as she stood looking around the open living area.

“A tea would be lovely, please,” she said, tilting her face up to kiss him quickly.

Mason nodded and headed over to find the teabags. Knowing tea was her comfort drink, he kept half an eye on her as he moved around his mother in the kitchen, watching her finish setting the table and check on the food in the oven.

“She’s not a bit like what I was expecting,” Marie said to him with a smile, “Not that it matters, of course, but…”

“She isn’t my usual type?” Mason finished with a little grin.

They'd never discussed it after Mason had told them about his sexuality (he suspected that his mother had cottoned on long before he told them) and he’d always been grateful that they’d accepted it at face value and never questioned it; knowing he wasn’t going to get any ‘we’re glad it’s a girl’ comments took a lot of pressure off this lunch.

“No, she’s not but I think she’s lovely,” Marie said firmly and Mason knew that meant Lyra had been accepted so he hugged his mum quickly, laughing at the height difference as Marie was enveloped by him easily.

“Thanks, Mum.”

“And she has better manners than Sirius,” Marie added, seeing Marlene sweep into the kitchen to try and steal food before they sat down, her mum swatting her hand away as she opened the oven again.

“That’s not hard, I’m not _offended_ by that,” Marlene scoffed, “I’d have to be an idiot to think he was well behaved.”

Mason rolled his eyes and added a splash of milk to the tea before escaping to find Lyra, who was looking out of the patio windows into the sweeping garden.

“I bet you’ve got so many gnomes,” she grinned, taking the mug from him gratefully.

“So many. I’ve heard Mark and the puppy like chasing them around.”

Lyra snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Do you like them?” Mason smiled, running his hand down her back softly.

“Like them?” she blinked, “Well, I’ve not met your father yet, but… yes, they’re lovely. Had to be, to raise someone like you,” she added teasingly, tugging the sleeve of his shirt.

Mason sniggered. “Dad will love you, he looks gruff but he’s a softie really.”

“Are you insulting your father already, Mason?” Marcus said, raising an eyebrow as he made his way across the room.

“Oh _now_ you appear,” Marie laughed, waving her wand at him as she spelled the trays out of the Muggle oven. “Typical!”

“Sorry, honey,” Marcus said, stopping in front of Mason and Lyra, trying to disguise his grin.

“Marcus McKinnon,” he added, holding his hand out which she shook with a little smile. “And I’m going to throw a wild hex in the dark and say you’re Lyra?”

“I am, sir,” she smiled, nodding. “Lovely to meet you.”

Marcus laughed. “You hear that, Lene? She called me ‘sir’, unlike that brother of hers! Good to know one of them has manners!” He turned back to Lyra. “But you absolutely don’t need to call me sir, I’ll get very full of myself. Marcus will be fine, I promise.”

“Of course,” she smiled, sipping her tea.

Marcus turned back to the kitchen knowingly and nodded to his wife. “Are we ready?”

“We are,” she said with relish, sending the plates and dishes swooping over to the large dining table in the corner. “Marlene, find your little brother.”

As the McKinnon family descended on the dinner table, Lyra helping hand plates out with Marie directing her, the last knot of tension in her chest melted away. It was impossible to stay stressed out around them; she wondered if she should be overwhelmed by all the love and affection oozing from them all without them even trying – it was such a different environment to anything she was used to from Grimmauld Place or even just from her little flat with Dorcas, with family photos and drawings done by Mark covering the walls, the bouncy puppy, Marlo, underfoot constantly, the little brushes of her arm as Marie asked for the peas, Marlene pulling faces at Mark at the other end of the table, Mason never more than an inch away from her.

Marcus had been half suspicious about his eldest son’s new girlfriend until she’d walked in and if anyone had asked, he would’ve been honest about it. Sirius was the exception to the Pureblood standard not the rule and if you’d asked Marcus a few years ago how many of Orion Black’s children he’d welcome around his table, the answer would not have been two. But he trusted Mason and, whatever else she might be, Lyra was in love with him. He knew from looking at his own wife that you couldn’t fake that look in your eyes.

Lunch was noisy and chaotic in the best way and it only calmed down once it was over and Mark and Marlo had vanished back into the other room to play with Marlene supervising. Marie had set the dishes washing with a flick of her wand, filled up everyone’s mugs with more tea and the box of biscuits was currently making their way around the room.

Lyra had stolen Mason’s usual armchair so he’d picked her up easily and tugged her onto his lap as she protested feebly before settling back with her drink and a biscuit, making Marie chuckle. Marcus fiddled with the Muggle television in the corner until it burst into life and he sat back contentedly, catching up on the news from outside the wizarding world and Marie watched her husband softly, rubbing his back.

“Mason, are you staying here tonight or going back to yours?” Marie checked, glancing back across at her eldest son and Lyra.

Mason glanced down at Lyra and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mind. We’ve got work in the morning but it’s up to you,” he said to her.

“I’m down to stay, if you’re okay with me mocking your childhood bedroom,” she grinned.

“It’s probably a tip,” Mason admitted.

Marie tutted. “It is not a tip, Mason, because I, your poor overworked mother, keep it fairly clean when you’re not here.”

“And I keep your flat clean, so really you do nothing,” Lyra added.

“Mason you do not let her do your cleaning do you?!” his mother gasped, scandalised.

“Ly, you little liar! You do not! It’s clean, okay, I clean! She just likes things being just so!”

Lyra rolled her eyes and finished her cookie. “You clean, I tidy. At least you do that, Dorcas does _nothing_ it’s like living with a bombarda charm!”

Mason sniggered because no one could deny that was true – Dorcas was the messiest person he knew and he wasn’t sure how Lyra functioned in that flat. “You’d miss it if she was tidy though, it gives you something to do!”

She shrugged, “True. But yes, Marie, we’d love to stay but we can sort out the room, don’t worry!”

“Seconded, Mum, don’t stress,” Mason grinned, dunking his cookie in Lyra’s tea and ignoring her outraged shriek.

“You’re going to get crumbs in it! Ew!”

He rolled his eyes teasingly and kissed her cheek.

Lyra huffed and went back to sipping quickly to stop him doing it again.

Marie watched them with a twinkle in her eye and held her tongue as Mason looked at her questioningly, knowing he wouldn’t want her embarrassing him.

They’d heard nothing about Lyra for a long time despite Marlene having told them there was someone in the picture, and while Marie didn’t have all the details yet, she knew they’d met during the training programme and she also knew that Lyra was younger by a few years, which had worried her slightly. Not because she thought it was an issue, because she was clearly mature enough, but because she knew her son and she knew how fast he fell for people; Marie had worried that Lyra, especially having just escaped a relationship – if you could call it that – wouldn’t feel the same way so soon. But, and she was very pleased to admit it, she’d been proven wrong.

“Mason I swear to Merlin if you try and put that biscuit in this tea again I will kick you so hard,” Lyra warned, moving the mug to try and keep it out of his reach as Mason sniggered and used his extra height and arm length to his advantage.

“Tough shit!”

“Language,” Marie chastised with a laugh.

Lyra just huffed again and flicked her hand, a determined glint in her eyes. Mason froze immediately, his eyes dancing.

“Serves you right!” Lyra crowed, slipping off his lap while he was still under the wandless petrificus totalus and draining her drink quickly.

Marie burst out laughing and clapped her hands together. “Marcus, look! Oh, Lyra, if I hadn’t loved you before, I would now! Was that non-verbal? And wandless?”

Lyra snorted and watched Mason watch them with soundless irritation. “How long do you reckon I should keep him silent for?”

“Oh it’s lovely and peaceful now,” Marie smirked as Marcus chortled at his son’s predicament.

Lyra dropped the spell a moment later with a grin. “That’s for ruining my cup of tea!”

Mason pouted and scooped her up lazily, lifting her off the floor with one arm around her waist.. “You _suck_ I hate that you can do that!”

“You hate someone being better than you at something? Who would’ve thought!” Marcus called and Lyra laughed loudly at the comeback.

Mason just pouted again. “We’re going to go and sort the bed out and leave you bullies behind.”

“You’re taking the biggest one with you,” Marie retorted, winking at Lyra who snorted and wriggled out of Mason’s arms. “No shenanigans upstairs, please.”

“Mum!” Mason whined as Lyra turned red. “I would never!”

“I’m not stupid,” Marie smirked, “Now get gone, I want the bed sorted and the room properly tidied!”

“Yes, Mum,” Mason called, tugging Lyra out and up the stairs.

“Do you remember when we were that age, Marcus? And that in love?” Marie chuckled, smoothing her husband’s hair down as he watched them go with an amused smile.

“What do you mean, when we _were_ that in love?” he protested, kissing her cheek softly. “And you don’t look a day over 25.”

“Thank you, my love,” she laughed.

* * *

“You called me here, My Lord?” the voice stammered, sweating hands shaking with nerves.

“I did. Do you know why?”

“I-I do, My Lord. I have enough information to make it worth your while.”

A sharp laugh. “I should hope so, for your sake. What do you have for me?”

“I know their upcoming plans, where people will be, who they’ll be with, both the Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix,” he stammered, keeping his head down under his cloak to avoid being seen and to avoid having to look at the Dark Lord stood in front of him, framed starkly by the gravestones around them, bathed in moonlight.

“Which people?”

“Dorcas Meadowes,” the smaller man said, taking a deep breath to steady his trembling voice. “Alastor Moody. Mason McKinnon. Marlene McKinnon. The whole family, I know their wards now. Lyra Black has joined too, My Lord-“

“I don’t care about her, Avery has asked to deal with her himself and I’ve obliged him.”

“Oh,” came the scared reply, less confident now one piece of information he had to offer had been taken from him.

Another pause.

“Anything else, Pettigrew? Anything more?” Voldemort said, twirling his wand in his hand in a lazy threat.

Peter whimpered slightly as he opened his mouth. “I think Ja-the Potters are going to change their Secret Keeper.”

“It was Black until now, I assume?”

Peter’s head bobbed as his heart hammered in his chest. “Yes, and he'd never give it away. But I can make them pick me this time.”

“You’d better.”

“I-I won’t let you down, My Lord,” he breathed.

Tom Riddle looked down his nose at the cowering man in front of him and sneered. “See to it that you don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on twitter, @astroemilyy for updates and general shenanigans!!


	18. July 1981

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: we're earning the major character death tag. Please be careful if you think it will upset you x

_1st July 1981_

The year was slowly but surely slipping away from them as it bled into July: they’d celebrated Marlene’s twenty first birthday in April, Dorcas’ in June, each feeling more and more like an oasis in the desert as the unflinching demands of their jobs and their work took more and more of their time and energy. The Ministry were forcing an attitude of optimism and steadfastly denying that the war was overwhelming them – except half the wizarding population saw right through it.

How could you not? Despite the cheerful words in the Prophet and the scattered good news of the arrests, there were wanted posters in every window in Diagon Alley, families were vanishing, more and more people were turning to join Voldemort in an attempt to keep their families safe and it was becoming harder to blame them when defying him inevitably meant death.

It was early morning and Lyra leaned her elbows on her desk, slowly massaging her temples, and allowed her eyes to shut for a moment as she took a steadying breath. The Auror Office were in the middle of planning a large raid on a suspected Death Eater base, which would be hard enough if they had any information on number of wizards, spells or traps inside - and they had no such information. Mason and herself were going, as were Frank and Alice with Dorcas now she was working with them full time after graduation. Moody was staying behind for once but only because he was paranoid that the Death Eaters would try a counterattack once they got wind of the raid. Coordinating everyone was bad enough but Lyra couldn’t quite rid herself of the sick feeling in her lower stomach at the thought of so many people she cared about being on the same mission.

She should really have been used to it by now, having seen plenty of Order of the Phoenix battles, but that felt different somehow, maybe due to the guerrilla tactics the Order had been forced into using, maybe because there was always the option of backing out of them if you needed to. They had no such luxury in the Auror Office these days; if Moody was becoming fixated on safety, then Bartemius Crouch was becoming fixated on eradicating the dark wizards entirely by any means necessary. The rules were tightening around the Aurors’ necks – she knew Mason loathed it – and more and more they were being instructed to kill first ask questions later. The raid would be brutal, but no one knew who for yet.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Mason asked, slipping into their office and smoothing her hair back as she picked her head up off the desk and leaned back into the chair.

“I will be,” she smiled tightly, “Something about this feels like a bad idea even if I know it makes sense.”

“Don’t worry, I feel the same,” he said grimly. “We’re supposed to protect, enforce the rules, not attack like this. It’s not that I don’t think the department is capable of it, quite the opposite, but…”

“I feel sick,” she muttered, “And not my usual sick, either. Something just isn’t right, but I can’t use that as a reason for calling this off.”

Somewhere along the way, due to the stress and exhaustion, she’d picked up a bug that wouldn’t go away no matter what she did and right now it was making it difficult.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit it out?”

“There’s no one that could take my place now,” she pointed out, forcing herself out of the chair and sipping her glass of water. “I’ll be fine, I’ve taken a potion anyway.”

“We’re all pretty much ready,” Mason nodded, kissing the top of her head.

“Then lead the way,” she smiled, leaning up to kiss him quickly just in case.

* * *

The Aurors used their hastily made Portkeys to move in groups to the location an old Pureblood family manor in the woods on the border of Wales. The twisting feeling made her nearly throw up and she swallowed hard to rid herself of the rancid aftertaste.

Mason cast charms around them all quickly and then cleared his throat. “I’m not going to brief you all again now, we did that back there. Positions, wait for the signal and then we go, you understand?”

The gathered Aurors nodded, robes absent for ease of movement, wands clutched tightly in their hands.

Dorcas gave Lyra’s hand a quick squeeze and grinned before she backed away to follow the Longbottoms. “Don’t throw up on me, Black.”

“Not planning on it, Meadowes,” Lyra grinned back, tying her hair up and rolling her shoulders out.

Dorcas laughed and jogged after the others to take her place furthest away from the house, hidden amongst the trees surrounding the property.

Lyra watched them all go, then glanced up at Mason and then around at the other three Aurors in their group, Shacklebolt included. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Kingsley said with a little smile.

“Let’s go,” Mason said, his mouth in a firm line as he started making his way towards the house, the five of them obscured by invisibility charms.

The plan, if all went well, was for the five of them to get through the protective wards and disable them once inside, hoping that Lyra’s seemingly higher ability to sense them would help them know they were down, allowing them to be replaced with an anti-apparition barrier just in front of the waiting Aurors to trap any Death Eaters within the Aurors’ perimeter. Then the others would slowly advance in and, while the initial group flushed the Death Eaters out, the groups could engage with them and hopefully makes some arrests.

That was if all went well. If it went wrong, the five of them could leave the house as they’d come in or apparate back to the edge of the barrier and get help that way, evacuating if need be.

The front door of the house opened after a few moments of Kingsley working around the spells and it opened with a long, low creak, revealing the stately entrance hall, portraits sleeping on the walls and a grand staircase sweeping up and round to the upper levels.

“Fancy,” Mason muttered, muttering lumos as they moved inside, casting charms around them to reveal any humans in a close radius: nothing, they were alone, at least in the front few rooms.

“Much nicer than Grimmauld Place,” Lyra agreed, “The chandelier looks… heavy.”

Mason snorted and glanced back at the other two Aurors and nodded quickly. “Watch our backs yeah? We’ll work on the wards.”

“I can feel a lot,” Lyra admitted, “It’s the same as at home, you can feel the weight of them almost. Some of these old Pureblood places have nasty ones worked in too, you’ll have to go slowly.”

“We’ll be careful,” he agreed and twirled his wand around, clearing his throat quietly. A protective formation set up, he turned back to the staircase and started working on undoing the layers of enchantments around the place.

Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as Mason and Kingsley began the tricky task, Lyra stepped further into the foyer and took a deep breath.

“Homenum revelio,” she whispered, forcing the spell to go out to a wider area than the regular one. Normally this tended to make the magic more obvious to any other witch or wizard who would be detected by it, but something told her to check anyway, despite the risk of alerting the Death Eaters. She could feel the wards coming down piece by piece around her as the two men worked, but she couldn’t feel the swoop of magic that would indicate any human presence in the building, even as she pushed the spell out to the very edge of the current wards that tightly hugged the manor walls. There was no one but them in the building.

“Mason,” she said, voice sharp with concern, wiping her brow of the sweat that had formed there with the extended use of the spell.

“What?” he said, his teeth gritted with the effort of his own work.

“There’s no one in here.”

“What?” he snapped, turning to look at her properly and noticing her spooked eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I scanned further-“

“You could’ve told them we were here!”

“Except there’s _no one here_,” she hissed, dropping her wand and pushing through their group quickly. “This has to be a trap.”

“How would they know we were coming?” the woman at the back piped up but her wand arm wavered with her concern.

“I don’t know but even if it’s not a trap, there’s no use being here if they aren’t! We should leave,” she said sharply.

“Lyra, even if they _aren’t_ here, which, you know, you could be wrong,” Mason said slowly, “We should still search the manor.”

“Do you trust me?” she said firmly, eyes boring into his.

“Always,” he said frowning, “But you aren’t the only one with a gut instinct, my love.”

She shook her head, feeling more frantic now. “I know, Mase, but please, trust me.”

“Lyra, Mason may be right,” Kingsley said, his voice level as always, “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

She took a deep breath and glanced back out of the front door to the peaceful gardens and the groves of trees hiding the waiting Aurors from sight. “Okay, okay, not jumping to conclusions.”

“Keep an eye out of the door if you want? We’ll continue working on the wards,” Mason said firmly, not wanting to go back empty handed. There had been too much work put into this raid for that.

She nodded unhappily but waited quietly, letting them work.

After another minute, the sweat now sliding down both men’s faces as they struggled against the old magic protecting the house, a violent shiver ran down Lyra’s spine and she raised her wand at the door automatically.

“No, Mason,” she said sharply, “Something’s wrong.”

He stopped again, exasperated. “Lyra, just because-“

A scream rose from the trees as dark plumes of smoke began to rise from the edge of the property, a bellowing roar seeming to shake the very frames of the house as a jet of fire moving faster than even normal magic would allow circled the estate. The concealed Aurors broke cover within seconds, singed and panicked, yelling loudly as they fled whatever it was chasing them.

“SHIT,” Mason snarled, yanking himself free of the magic he was working on and racing outside, the familiar dark forms of Death Eaters apparating onto the lawns at random, silver masks gleaming as the wall of Fiendfyre turned the sky dark with smoke and the light burning red.

“TO ME!” he yelled, but he knew the message wouldn’t reach the Aurors on the other side of the gardens and he swore again. “PASS IT ROUND, BACK TO ME, QUICKLY!”

“There’s so many of them,” Lyra gasped, protecting them from the worst of the spells as they tried to fall into position.

“We got the wards down far enough that we should be able to apparate away,” Kingsley said, his voice suddenly tense. “I think it may be best to abandon this now.”

“I’m inclined to agree, we didn’t even know there were this many Death Eaters, let alone this many in one place, Mason!” Lyra added desperately. “Where are the others? Where’s Dorcas?”

“Probably with Frank and Alice,” Mason said, but he didn’t have any time to worry about it more as he was dragged into a duel by the closest Death Eater to their group, Kingsley finding himself in the same situation pretty quickly, crushing their plans to disengage and leave.

Lyra tried to scan the area for her best friend, eyes jumping from duelling pair to duelling pair, searching for the familiar curly black hair and bright eyes. It was chaos: there were bodies already falling, both Auror and Death Eater, the robes crumpled on the floor, grass darkening with blood and the heat from the cursed fire pushing everyone inwards towards the house, forcing the Aurors to give up space.

“They were further out, we thought we had them surrounded but they had _us_ surrounded,” she realised with horror, not even sure who she was speaking to as she turned in a slow circle, surveying the horror.

At the far edge of the grass, just in front of the now burning trees, stood a man. He wore no mask, just simple black robes, a slender wand in his hand. Something animalistic in Lyra’s body told her to run as fast as she could and never look back and she knew deep down that this was Him, this was Voldemort. The Dark Lord was here.

A strangled cry left her throat and she nearly apparated away then and there until she remembered who was around her: Mason, Dorcas, Kingsley, her friends. Dorcas! Where was _Dorcas_?

The dark figure started to walk forwards almost calmly even as Lyra’s heartrate spluttered and squeezed in her chest desperately, but He wasn’t moving towards her, Voldemort was moving around the edge of the circle, towards…

“DORCAS,” she screamed, her voice cracking with pain as she realised who those dark, sunken eyes were focussed on. “_DORCAS WATCH OUT!_”

Mason’s head snapped around at her cry and he quickly noticed what she’d noticed, cursing violently.

“Lyra,” he warned, lurching forwards to try and grab her arm. “Lyra don’t you dare,” he snarled, deflecting a curse with a shield charm behind him as he met her eye. “Don’t be an IDIOT!”

Lyra clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes at him before she turned and pushed off, running as fast as should towards her friend.

“LYRA!” Mason howled, forced to stop following her as more Death Eaters cut him off from her but she didn’t _care_, she didn’t _care_, she didn’t _care_; her best friend was duelling alone as the most powerful dark wizard in one hundred years made his way towards her and there was nothing in the world that would stop her from trying to help, not even Mason.

“DORCAS, WATCH OUT,” she sobbed, being slowed by the Death Eaters targeting her as they noticed she was trying to reach their leader.

Dorcas had heard her, but there was nothing she could do – she had been burned, she had been hit with curses already, she was tired, and she could see Voldemort approaching, the malicious glint in his eyes gleaming red for a moment as he came into range just as she disposed of the final Death Eater standing between them. She took a deep breath, the sounds of the battle raging around them fading away, leaving only the dull thud of her own heartbeat and her ragged breathing.

She cast the first spell.

Lyra screamed again with rage, her control on her magic spluttering out as the crescendo of her grief hit her as she watched the duel begin, the lightning speed with which they both moved both horrifying and transfixing her. Death Eater after Death Eater fell as she forced her way through them towards the pair. She wasn’t going to make it, she wasn’t going to make it, she wasn’t going to make it, there was no way Dorcas, even Dorcas, incredible, brave Dorcas, could hold out for long against _Him_.

Sobbing violently, chest heaving, Lyra made it to the edge of the wide circle that had cleared around them over the course of the duel. She moved to join Dorcas, wand outstretched, but found herself unable to move as a sinister voice in her head held her still, her whole body trembling with the effort of keeping Him out of her mind even as he continued fight. Most of Voldemort’s spells were the killing curse, they had been from the start, and slowly Dorcas' reactions were lagging, the spells searing closer and closer to her skin.

Exhausted, she tripped on the ground and turned slowly, too slowly.

The hold on Lyra's mind vanished as the beam of light travelled in slow motion towards her friend as Dorcas’ final spell left the end of her wand. She turned to Lyra, her expression softening immediately as she locked eyes with her, even as Lyra’s lungs gave in, her throat shut tight as she fell to her knees. She watched Dorcas’ lips move, briefly forming two words before the emerald light swallowed her, her body glowing as it fell before it – and the light in her eyes – went dull.

Lyra’s scream made even the Fiendfyre in front of her quiver, the rage and devastating loss rocking her body as she curled into a ball in the mud. There was no world outside of her and the lifeless body of her friend in front of her. Nothing else meant anything.

His task complete for now, the Dark Lord backed away, satisfied, but she didn’t care. She didn’t try and stop him. How could anything matter? How could it matter when Dorcas was _there_, unmoving, unaware, gone.

_Gone, gone, gone_.

Only one thing broke through her haze: “my family”, Dorcas had said, her last two words. If the Dark Lord had known Dorcas was here, if they’d set this trap up, and if Dorcas was now dead, then the wards Dorcas had placed around her family home would be gone along with her. And they would know that too.

“Lyra,” Mason croaked, several metres behind her having finally fought his way to them. “Lyra, please.” He wasn’t even sure what he was asking of her – his own knees were weak as he watched the sobs wrack her body.

She crawled her way over to Dorcas and shook her desperately, violently, praying she would feel her heartbeat, her breaths, her pulse. Nothing.

Mason touched her arm nervously as he collapsed next to her and she flinched away like he’d stung her.

“I have to go,” she croaked, turning her red rimmed eyes to him, the light that always filled them burning with a rage he hadn’t known she’d possessed. A rage that he knew she _hadn’t_ possessed until now.

“Go where? You can’t go!” he protested, his own voice cracking as he held her wrist tightly. “This isn’t over here, there is still fighting, you have to stay, we need to-“

“_You_ need to,” she snarled, yanking her hand away.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere,” he said, his voice shaking with fear. “You’re not leaving my sight, Lyra, I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

“Try and stop me,” she snarled. “I need to get to her family, the wards – they knew she would be here, this was a set up for her and you know it was!”

Mason gripped her tighter and grabbed her other wrist too as she tried to stand up furiously, tears streaming down her face. “You’re not going.”

“You let me go right _now_, Mason,” she snarled, struggling against his grip desperately. “Her family, Mason!”

“Someone else can go. Later.”

“We need to go NOW! Let GO!”

“I’m not going to, your job is here,” Mason said but he didn’t sound sure of himself.

She wrenched her arms free with a heaving sob as her eyes burned into him in anger and she stumbled backwards, apparating before he could so much as move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry this hurt me too I'm sorry


	19. July 1981

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, more character death, discussions of grief, fighting, blood. I promise it's a happy ending but we really go through it to get there. Stay safe and I hope you're all doing well during quarantine xx

She landed on her feet at the start of the lane to the little red brick house at the top of the hill and she was running before the sick feeling had vanished, her feet pounding on the potholed road, too drained to apparate again so soon. She first assumed that her violent cough was from the leftovers of the Fiendfyre back at the manor but one glance up told her differently– the house was on fire, the sinister flames licking cruelly at the walls, the front door already a smouldering gateway with acrid smoke pouring out of it.

Lyra saw the dark figures standing back from the house and, upon seeing their silver masks, fired without hesitation, killing two before they saw her and the third dropping to the floor a moment after, her pain channelling through her wand, the spells moving faster than she thought possible.

She heaved in a breath and burst into the house, knowing full well that she couldn’t have put the fire out by herself even at full strength and definitely not in her current state.

“RUSLANA? MR MEADOWES?” she screamed, turning on the spot as she darted through the house, her mouth and nose covered with her sleeve as her eyes watered at the heat. Already her lungs seemed to be burning for oxygen and she choked, her head spinning by the time she made it back into the hallway and saw Dorcas’ parents lying on the stairs, clearly having tried to block the way upstairs. Muffling another horrified scream, she stumbled back out of the house to clear her lungs desperately, wiping her eyes and mumbling spells to try and filter the smoke from around her mouth and eyes.

Not sure the charms would even work but not daring to waste any more time, she scrambled back inside, putting out any flames that licked the edges of her clothes with the smallest bursts of water she could manage in order to conserve energy.

Numbed of emotion as she climbed over the bodies of Ruslana and Joseph, she made it to the landing and came face to face with a third body.

“Reuben,” she whimpered, bending down and shaking him weakly but knowing it was no good. The smoke was thinner up here, having not quite reached the upper levels yet but it was still bad enough and she vaguely remembered Dorcas mentioning that her brother and father had asthma – the teenager hadn’t stood a chance.

“RUTH? GRACIE? JUDITH?” she screamed, spinning in circles as she saw the doors with their carefully painted signs in the names of the five children.

“HERE! HERE!” a voice cried from the furthest room and Lyra noticed the rainbow painted ‘Dorcas and Ruth’: even with their sister gone, they’d fled to her room and Lyra nearly collapsed onto the carpet then and there.

Freezing for half a second then recovering, she rattled the door handle quickly and then screamed. “What’s blocking the door? Ruth?”

“A bookshelf,” she sobbed, and Lyra could already hear the sound of scrabbling as the eldest tried to move it back again.

Lyra helped rock the door from the other side and slipped in, slamming the door shut again before all three of the girls leapt at her, sobbing wildly and clinging to her. She held them all tightly as her own tears started to flow again, their terrified sobs jolting every nerve in her body.

“Ruth,” she croaked. “I can get you all out, just… just give me a second?” she whispered, her voice shaking as she tried to take deep breaths. “We need to keep low to the ground just now, okay?”

“Okay,” Ruth whimpered, helping her hold the two little girls down as Lyra forced herself to take deep breaths despite the smoke, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Dorcas isn’t coming back, is she?” Ruth asked, her voice wobbling as she watched Lyra. She wasn’t stupid, she knew if their sister was alive that it’d be _her_ rescuing them and not Lyra in her place.

“No,” Lyra managed with a sob, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry.”

Ruth flung her arms around her neck and held her tightly, squeezing. “It’s okay.”

Lyra nearly laughed – because it wasn’t okay and it never would be – but held it together as she pulled away from the little girl and wiped her eyes fiercely. “I’m going to apparate the twins outside, okay, you know about that? Magically appearing somewhere else? I’ll leave them there and then I’ll come back for you, I can’t do all three of you together.”

Ruth’s bottom lip trembled but she nodded. “You’ll come back?”

“I would never leave you, Ruthie,” Lyra said firmly, kissing her forehead as she gathered the two four year olds in her arms and vanished with an echoing crack.

Ruth grabbed up her books and a photo frame from Dorcas’ bedside table and ran to the window to watch Lyra drop the crying girls on the grass and then turned again as she reappeared in the smoky room, holding her hands out for Ruth and scooping her up, leaving the way she’d arrived. Lyra’s knees buckled as she landed, Ruth falling down next to her and her two little sisters, wrapping her arms around them and sobbing hysterically now the immediate danger was gone. Staring at the grass, Lyra saw what Ruth had dropped, the things she had saved from the house: the photograph of their family and her precious book, the same copy she’d bought along to the family day at training all those months ago.  
She picked it up with shaking hands and gripped like it was the only thing keeping her alive, her breathing accelerating as the red headed girl on the front cover went in and out of focus. Setting it back down on the grass, Lyra looked around wildly, wishing she could stop the fire and save more of the house, but now the flames were appearing in the windows of the upstairs room and she knew she’d only just been in time to get the girls out, as horrifying as that was. The other three bodies would be gone by now.

Her sobs were silenced as the roaring of the flames continued to engulf the house and she almost wanted the blurry figure approaching her to be a Death Eater. She wanted it all to be over.

She looked up again through her tears and saw the figure was walking with a limp and a cane.

“Oh, my girl,” Alastor said with a gentleness she’d never heard before. With difficulty, he lay the cane down and crouched down next to her as the three girls stared at him with terrified eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lyra.”

She stared at him as her bottom lip trembled and then she flung her arms around him and wept as she felt her world ending.

Vaguely aware that other members of the Order were arriving and speaking to the girls, she allowed herself to forget about them and continued to sob, not feeling like she would ever ever stop. Moody eventually moved her away gently and handed her over to Mason who cradled her on his lap like a child, his arms tight around her. She barely noticed; she couldn't breathe or hear or feel apart from the gaping hole in her chest where Dorcas was meant to be.

She’d never lost anyone, not like this. Sirius was different, Sirius hurt, but it was never permanent. Regulus was no doubt dead, but it hadn't been in front of her, she'd got to say goodbye to him. This was like a bomb had gone off in her chest and she was bleeding out and there was nothing anyone could do.

They took them to St Mungo’s.

They were checked over.

Mason took her back to his flat although she weakly protested at leaving the girls.

Mason put her in bed and made her food that she didn't eat.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Dorcas was gone.

* * *

_2nd July 1981_

“Is she any better? Marlene whispered as Mason shut the front door behind her and ushered her into his living room, running a hand through his hair.

He shook his head. “She’s stopped crying, but only through sheer exhaustion, she doesn’t have the energy for it.”

Marlene wiped her own eyes as she sank onto the sofa and dropped her head into her hands. “I guess that’s better.”

“It’s not,” Mason said hoarsely, staring past Marlene at the door Lyra was behind, curled up in his bed unmoving. “She’s just… it’s like she’s not there, there’s nothing behind her eyes. At least the crying meant she was alive.”

“Don’t,” Marlene said sharply. “Don’t.”

“She doesn’t want me there, Lene,” Mason whispered, staring at his sister, wishing beyond anything that she had the answers. “And I’m so mad at her for going after them, for leaving us there another Auror down, for not telling me where she was going after I’d just seen all of it, and now I’m mad at her for doing this, for sinking into herself and pushing me away, she won’t let me touch her, she didn’t let me be in the room for her medical examination, she doesn’t listen when I talk, like I’m not hurting too, like we didn’t _all_ lose her yesterday.”

Marlene watched her laced fingers, her own tears running down her cheeks silently. “I know.”

“I want to _help_, I can’t do it, I can’t leave her but I can’t sit out here and listen to the silence from that room anymore,” he snapped, balling his fists up and stretching them out again in a vain attempt to release some of the pent up energy he was containing.

“_Fuck_ this,” he snarled up, getting up and taking a step towards the bedroom door before he realised Lyra was already there, leaning on the doorframe with one arm wrapped around herself protectively.

He faltered. “Hi.”

She regarded them both, the bags under her eyes standing out sharply against her pale skin. “I want to see the girls.”

Marlene stood up too – this was something she could help with. “They… They’re still at St Mungo’s, Judith inhaled a lot of smoke and they wanted to monitor them for at least forty eight hours.”

“I want to see them,” Lyra repeated, her voice steadier.

“I’ll take you to them,” Marlene nodded.

“Lyra, I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Mason said nervously. She looked weak enough that anything too upsetting could seriously damage her.

She ignored him and grabbed her jacket, pulling some pumps on and walking in a daze to the door.

“Ly, sweetheart, please, I-“

“Don’t speak to me,” she croaked, staring stubbornly out of the window.

Marlene looked helplessly between them and Mason reluctantly nodded, knowing he couldn’t – and shouldn’t – stop her. He didn’t know best, especially not with this.

“I’m going to Remus’ place then, I don’t want to be here alone,” Mason mumbled, grabbing his coat and following them out. He stooped down and went to kiss the top of Lyra’s head but stopped himself, not sure if she’d appreciate it. “I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll bring her back here safe,” Marlene promised before slipping her arm through Lyra’s and apparating them away.

Mason locked the front door slowly, hearing the click and staring at it silently trying to collect himself before disappearing from the doorstep too.

* * *

Lyra felt her stomach turn as they arrived, but she didn’t react. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself tightly and followed Marlene down the clinical white corridors, her friend navigating them with ease after her hours and hours spent here. She paused at the end of the corridor and knocked on the wooden door right at the end. Another Healer opened the door and smiled as she recognised Marlene. She glanced past her colleague to Lyra and opened her mouth to protest.

“It’s alright,” Marlene promised, “She’s family.”

The Healer looked sceptical but nodded and opened the door wider, allowing the two girls in.

Dorcas’ three little sisters were piled onto one of the beds in the little side room, the twins practically asleep on Ruth’s lap as she tried to keep them tucked under the blankets.

Marlene mouthed a thank you at the Healer and shut the door quietly as Lyra moved over to the bed on autopilot and sat down, managing a weak smile at Ruth, whose dark eyes were locked on Lyra’s, the despair mirrored in both.

“Hey,” Lyra said quietly.

“Hi,” Ruth mumbled.

“H…how are you?” Lyra croaked, knowing that was a stupid question.

Ruth shrugged, “Not too good. The twins don’t really get it yet, they know something really bad has happened, and I don’t know how to make them understand.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, taking Grace into her arms as the four year old crawled over for a hug, latching onto any familiar face in a hospital full of strangers. “Do you know where you’re… staying?”

“Granny and Grandad are driving down,” Ruth mumbled. “We’re going to live with them. But they don’t know anything about magic, about Dorcas, about this place, so we have to pretend and I’m worried.”

Lyra smoothed down Grace’s hair gently as she bit her lip. “They’ll make sure your grandparents don’t ask questions, don’t worry. And… and maybe I could come and visit? If you tell them who I am?”

“We won’t be able to have the owl any more,” Ruth whimpered.

“No, but I can give you my address and we can write letters the Muggle way,” Lyra smiled slightly. She didn’t want to lose her last link to Dorcas and she could only imagine how lost the sisters felt right now. “It’ll be fun! With stamps and everything!”

Ruth giggled wetly and nodded. “Okay.”

Lyra conjured a piece of Muggle paper, just in case her grandparents wondered about parchment, and carefully wrote her address and then, after a moment of hesitation, Mason’s address too. She had no idea what she’d be doing now, as the flat she’d shared with Dorcas hurt to even think about.

Ruth slid the paper in between the pages of the book they’d saved from the house and she smiled. “I’ll write soon.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lyra smiled and hugged her again tightly as the Healer poked her head back around the door and gave her a stern look. They'd clocked she wasn't really family. “Ruth, I think I have to go,” she said gently.

“No!”

“I have to,” Lyra said softly, swallowing hard, “I don’t want to either, I don’t, but we’ve got to listen to the hospital.”

“Why?”

“Because we have to, sweetheart,” she mumbled, trying to smooth her hair down and extract herself from the bed gently.

Ruth protested again but then the twins started stirring so she quietened down, her fear of disturbing them overriding her grief.

“I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t this way, for so many reasons,” Lyra said softly, licking her lips as she met Ruth’s eyes directly, wondering why she could look this little girl in the eye but not Mason. “But it – it is. You won’t lose me too, though, I swear it. If you want me around, I’ll be there,” she promised firmly.

Ruth’s eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip quivered but she nodded and threw her arms around Lyra’ neck, squeezing tightly.

“I’ll see you soon,” Lyra whispered before pressing a kiss to the top of the little girl’s head and reluctantly pulling away.

She slid off the bed silently and floated to the door in a daze.

“See you soon,” Judith echoed, her hands now resting on her sisters as she watched Lyra leave, the door closing with a gentle but heartbreaking click.

* * *

Mason heard the door latch move and he pushed himself off the bed quickly, knowing it would be Lyra. The wards around the flat had been strengthened by multiple people – they’d realised after Dorcas’ death that having them connected to one person’s magic was a massive flaw – and he knew only Lyra could get in without being let in. He’d tidied up their bedroom and tried to tackle the rest of the house too, but he’d given up once the sheets had been changed and had flopped back onto the bed to wait for her to get back from St Mungos.

“Lyra?” he called, heading into the living area and offering her a nervous smile. “Hey. How was it?”

Lyra had exhausted all of her energy and her eyes were dull and lifeless again as she shrugged her jacket back off and headed towards him.

Mason held a hand out but she brushed past him and back into the bedroom, heading straight for the bed.

“Ly, please,” Mason said softly, catching her arm and stopping her in her tracks, tugging her back over to him, his hands covering her cheeks as his thumb brushed her skin. “Talk to me.”

“About _what_?”

“Anything! Fucking anything, Ly, how you are, what you’re thinking, Dor-“

“Don’t,” she snarled, stepping backwards as her eyes filled with tears and Mason instantly felt guilty. “Don’t say her name.”

“Why? Because she was my friend too, Lyra,” he said, voice snappier than he’d intended.

“You think I don’t know that?” she huffed, wiping at her eyes. “I just can’t stop thinking about the fact that you tried to _stop_ me!”

“Stop you from what?!” Mason protested.

“Going to her,” Lyra cried but it was more of a sob now, the void in her chest tearing itself back open at the reminder that she hadn’t been fast enough. “You tried to stop me getting to her and then you tried to stop me leaving to get to her family. If I’d been faster-“

“If you’d been faster getting to her, Voldemort would’ve killed you. He only didn’t because he knew you’d be too late,” Mason said sharply. “You don’t face him and win, and he doesn’t take chances, Lyra.”

“Okay, fine,” she snapped, “You think I don’t know that? But then to try and stop me leaving? Their wards were down, they were killed without ever knowing what had happened to Dorcas or how to stop it, the Death Eaters set the house on fire and were going to let the girls burn alive, and YOU TRIED TO STOP ME GOING TO HELP!”

“You had a job to do,” Mason snapped, clenching his fists as he shook his head at her. “I don’t care what you were thinking, Dorcas was dead, we all saw it, we were both there, but you can’t just _fuck off_ when you’re on a mission! We were there to arrest or kill Death Eaters and you left – alone – moments after one our best friends was murdered in front of us and you wonder why I tried to stop you?!”

She laughed coldly. “You think I should’ve stayed – out of what? Duty?”

“YES!” he snarled. “You signed up to do a job, you were there as an Auror not as an Order member and you can’t just fuck off when you want!”

“You think you’re all that, Mason McKinnon, when really you’d have let those three girls die?” she said, her voice shaking as she hurled her finger at the door, her mind flashing back to the girls curled up on that hospital bed. “Because you ‘had a job to do’?”

“That’s not-“

“YES IT IS!” she sobbed. “You Gryffindors think you’re the be all and end all of morality when it’s on your terms, but when someone does it differently suddenly they’re shirking their duty?”

“You went along as an Auror,” Mason snarled. He didn’t even know where this fury was coming from but it seemed that while she was imploding with grief, he was exploding outwards, tearing them both apart in the process. “You needed to do your job!”

“And what’s our oath, Mason?” she said coldly.

He stayed silent, his chest heaving with the adrenaline coursing through his body.

“_What. Is. It?_”

“To defend the Ministry of Magic, uphold the Statute of Secrecy-“

“And the _important_ bit?”

“To protect both Wizardkind and Muggles from harm, apprehend those who misuse their magic and maintain the peace.”

“To protect both Wizardkind and Muggles from harm,” she repeated, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “In that moment, Mason, who was at greater risk? The well-trained elite team of witches and wizards who, because the Dark Lord had left were infinitely safer than they had been a minute before, or the unarmed, uninformed Muggles and _children_ stuck alone in a burning house?”

When he said nothing, she stepped closer. “Who was at greater risk, Mason? Answer me.”

“The Muggles.”

“Precisely. So get off your _damn_ pedestal and don’t question me about my motivations, because believe me, I know far more about duty – and shirking duty – than you do. Do not tell me I was wrong for what I did, asshole.”

Mason hated being wrong and he hated this and he hated grief and he hated that he’d hurt her and he hated that Dorcas was dead and more than anything else, he hated himself for what came out his mouth next.

“You just called him the Dark Lord not Voldemort so maybe I _should_ question your motivations.” he spat.

Dead silence.

The anger faded from her eyes, the tremble of her lip stilling as she dropped her hands back to her sides, her entire body going rigid.

“Lyra…”

“Don’t say a word to me right now,” she said, her voice icy. “Not a single word.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his breathing ragged.

“I never thought that would come from you,” she whispered, her shoulders dropping as she stared at him, shocked. “I’ve never even thought it would cross your mind. Not once.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough. I get it, you’re grieving too, please don’t think that I don’t know that – you all knew her far longer than I ever did.” Or ever would, she added privately, a fresh wave of grief rocking her and nearly forcing her to stop talking. “But you have no right to accuse me of not doing my job or having selfish motivations for leaving that manor house. And you certainly,” she said strongly, her voice shaking with barely suppressed rage, “Have no right to say _that_ to me.”

“I know.”

“And yet… you said it.”

“I _know_.”

“I’m going back to my flat now,” Lyra mumbled.

Mason felt his chest tighten and he sat back down on the edge of the bed before his knees gave way. She’d sobbed into his chest as they’d arrived back here swearing that she’d never go back there, that she couldn’t go back to the empty flat. And he’d forced her back there.

He had no words to give her that would make this better so he just lowered his head into his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I saw the owl from your mum,” Lyra added quietly, wiping her eyes. “You should go home, Mason.”

He let out a small defeated noise.

She didn’t want to be alone but for the first time since meeting him she couldn’t bear the thought of being near him so she turned silently on her heels and walked away. He didn’t move even when he heard the front door close behind her.

* * *

_5th July 1981_

Mason had been home for three days.

Lyra knew this because it was three nights she’d spent alone in her flat, knowing that the bedroom on the other side of the wall was empty and would always be empty. In a daze she’d dealt with the practical side of things with the help of Remus, who was the only reason she’d gotten out of bed at all, and she’d managed a letter to Ruth that Marlene had passed along before the girls had driven back to their grandparents house. She’d been in to work and promptly been escorted back out again by a stern faced Alastor Moody, and then she’d started the laborious task of sorting through her flat which in her hungry and sleepless state was both physically and emotionally exhausting.

The boxes and suitcases around her never seemed get any fuller and she leaned back against the sofa, drained.

Remus slipped through and nudged her gently, handing over the mug of tea with a little smile. “You know you don’t have to be the one to do this?” he added, frowning slightly as he noticed yet again how pale she was.

Lyra took a gulp of tea and then swallowed quickly, not sure she was in the mood for drinking it despite the kind gesture. “I don’t but I also do.”

“You shouldn’t have to do it alone,” Remus added.

“I’m not alone, I have you,” Lyra smiled softly as he sat down next to her.

Remus sighed and gave her a look. “I appreciate that, but you know what I meant. Where is he, if I may ask?”

“Who? Sirius or Mason?”

“Both. Mason, mostly.”

“We fought,” she admitted, stretching her legs out and wriggling her toes. “It was… not fun. I said he should go home, his mum had asked him to come back for a bit anyway and I didn’t want him to be here.”

He winced. “What happened? I can’t imagine you two fighting.”

“He was mad because I left the battle to go and find Ruth, Grace and Judith,” she mumbled, wrapping her hands around the mug, needing the warmth. “And he thinks I should’ve stayed and helped with the Aurors as my first priority.”

He coughed slightly. “Uh, no offence, Ly, but that doesn’t seem like something worth fighting this badly about.”

She laughed nervously. “It was bad, but it wasn’t the, uh, the final nail in the…” She couldn’t finish that metaphor right now and regretted her word choice.

“Should I be scared?”

“Maybe.”

Remus took a deep breath. “Well, I asked, I should hear the answer. What did he say?”

“How do you know he said something?” Lyra said with a little smile.

Remus snorted. “You really think he’d have fucked off and sulked if _he_ hadn’t fucked up?”

“Touché.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I said that I knew more about duty, and ignoring duty, than he did and that he shouldn’t question my motivation. And then he said that seeing as I’d slipped and called Him the Dark Lord and not Voldemort, maybe he _should_ question my motivations.”

“Well shit.”

“And then I told him he should go home.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s… not like him,” Remus muttered.

Lyra opened her mouth to say something else and then faltered, bursting into tears, the tea slopping over the sides of the mug as she shook and Remus swore again, grabbing his wand and clearing it up before it burned her properly, taking the mug from her grasp and stammering as he tried to work out what to do.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked, burying her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do with all of this. I can’t do it. I can’t deal with Dorcas and her family and moving and the war and now Mason’s not even here and I can’t sleep or eat or focus. I'm nauseous all the time. I feel like an idiot, I’m barely functioning after one death and you’ve all been doing this since the start, I don’t know what to do. I can't _do_ this any more.”

Remus looked aggrieved and wrapped his arms around her gently, not knowing what to do either in the face of such devastating grief.

“I miss her. And I want Mason here.”

“I can’t fix the first one, God knows I wish I could, but we can maybe fix the second one, if you really do want that?”

She wiped at her face desperately and fought with herself over her answer.

“I do, but I also don’t know what to say to him.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to know,” Remus promised gently.

“Maybe I should go over there, it’s not like I want to be here either,” she mumbled, forcing herself to stand shakily and trying to run a hand through her hair.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?”

“He can’t get mad at me around his parents, can he?” Lyra shrugged. “And thank you, Remus, really, I appreciate it. I think I’ll be okay.”

He didn't really think she would be okay, but he sighed and nodded his understanding. “I can clean up this tea and lock up.”

“You’re a star,” she said with a little smile, wrapping her arms around him.

With Lily and James gone, Sirius vanishing at all hours and Peter jumping every time someone spoke to him, Remus had increasingly gravitated towards Mason and Lyra rather than his friends from Hogwarts. The rift between him and Sirius was growing and Lyra hadn’t dared to ask what the cause was and she strongly suspected that Remus didn’t even know. She hated that it was happening, but she’d been so incredibly grateful for his company the last few days and the weeks before that too that she wasn’t going to ask now and upset him further.

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” she added, tucking her hair behind her ears nervously as she headed for the door.

“Do _not_ tell me if you shag and make up, a simple ‘we’re good’ will suffice,” Remus teased.

She snorted despite herself, the sound warming something in her chest that gave her hope. “Noted. I’ll see you soon, Remus. Love you,” she added with a little smile, waving briefly before vanishing.

* * *

She apparated to where their wards extended to and paused for a moment to allow them to recognise her before she stepped through, physically feeling the magic surround her and then get left behind as she made her way slowly towards the large house.

“Who’s there?” a man called and Lyra froze, holding her hands away from her body so they knew she wasn’t reaching for a wand.

“Mr McKinnon?” she called back, “It’s just me, Lyra.”

“Lyra?” Marcus said, stepping closer. “What painting is hanging in the hallway of our home?”

She smiled slightly. “A very bad drawing of you and Mrs McKinnon done by Mason aged about eight. She’s got a bright green dress on.”

Marcus lowered his wand and walked over to where she stood at the gate of the garden. “Hi, Lyra,” he said gently, resting his hands on her shoulders and glancing her over.

“Is… is Mason here?” she asked, suddenly nervous. Maybe he wouldn’t want to see her?

“He is,” Marcus nodded. “Do you want to come in?”

“If that’s okay,” she whispered, “We-“

“Fought, we guessed,” he admitted, “When our son came storming into the house, slammed his bedroom door like a teenager and shouted for my wife to leave him alone.”

She winced slightly at the thought. “I’m sorry. If he doesn’t want to see me…”

“I think he wants to see you very much, but I believe he was waiting for you to come here, to give you space. I’m not sure if that was the _wisest_ plan, but it’s good to see you here anyway.”

She nodded and Marcus stepped to the side, one hand still on her shoulder reassuring her as he led her to the house.

“Sorry for coming out here wands up, we’ve had some trouble with the wards, something about the overlapping casters causing problems, we need to patch up some holes but until then we’re just on guard.”

“No that’s okay,” she smiled.

Magic wasn’t flawless, evidently: one layer of wards meant that they were only tied to one person, and if they went, so did your protection. Many layers meant the magic tended to conflict and cause different problems. The Order were still trying to perfect the art of layering the enchantments.

“Marie! Put the kettle on, please, sweetheart? I could do with a cuppa!” Marcus called as he shut and locked the front door behind them as Lyra glanced up the stairs where she knew Mason’s bedroom was. “Go on up if you want, dear.”

She mumbled a thank you and slipped up the stairs before knocking slowly on his door.

“Mum, I’m not hungry.”

She hesitated before speaking: “It’s not your mum.”

There was a pause and then a scuffle and then she blinked as the door was opened suddenly, the light from the bedroom streaming into the otherwise dark hallway. “Ly?”

“The very same,” she mumbled, glancing up at him and forcing a little smile. She watched him rub his jaw nervously, his grey t-shirt crumpled like he’d been in bed ever since he got here.

“Y-you’re here?”

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

He ran a hand through his hair and opened and closed his mouth, trying to word what he wanted to say.

“I’ll start with I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, watching her expression for any clues to her emotions.

“It’s always a good place to start,” she replied, tipping her head slightly to the side.

“It’s not that good, I know it doesn’t change what I said. I… I had a lot of time to think about what you said, and even before I… I said what I said, I was in the wrong. Your priorities were with who was the most defenceless, not who was in the most imminent danger. And just because there were spells going off around us didn’t mean that you weren’t needed at the house too. I should’ve trusted your judgement, I shouldn’t have stopped you, if I’d let you go maybe they’d still be alive.”

She took a deep breath and shrugged. “We’ll never know. But I don’t think so, the house was already burning, I’d have needed minutes more and that wasn’t possible. I imagine they’d been at the edge of the wards waiting for the exact second they went down."

“Even so,” Mason mumbled, stepping over the threshold of his room and brushing his thumb along her jaw softly, half expecting her to slap his hand away seeing as she hadn’t touched him since before Dorcas' death. “Nothing is black and white. I should know that by now. And I definitely shouldn’t have said what I said next.”

Her gaze flickered to the floor. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

“I can’t make that up to you,” he whispered. “I can’t undo what I said, but I promise that I trust you. I’ve never thought about you like that, I’ve never believed that about you. I was angry and bitter and hurting and I lashed out. I didn’t even know I was that kind of person, I always thought I’d have better control of myself but it was too sudden and – and you were so hurt, and…”

“I have to apologise too,” Lyra said, rolling the words around her mouth. “She… She was my best friend, but she was yours too. And while it _hurts_, it hurts so badly in a way that I'm not sure I'll ever know how to deal with, I shouldn’t have pushed you away. Because you’re hurting too and I didn’t think about anything but myself.”

“You’re forgiven for that, Lyra,” he said firmly, cupping her cheek properly and feeling the heat of her skin against his hand, her pulse jumping in her throat where his fingers brushed her.

“You’re forgiven too,” she promised, leaning into his touch and letting out her breath slowly, forcing the tension from her shoulders.

“You mean it? I feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“We don’t live in a world where we have the luxury of not forgiving people,” she said, swallowing hard. “We don’t have _time_ for that. I love you, you said something cruel, but I _know_ you didn’t mean it. It’ll hurt, and I’m still angry, maybe, but I forgive you.”

“And you think I’m the nicer one out of the two of us,” Mason said with a little grin, resting his forehead against hers. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you.”

Lyra’s mouth curled into a smile and she slipped her arms around his waist, settling her breathing against his, the steady rise and fall of his chest calming her in its usual way. “I’m still angry.”

“Okay, sweetheart, you can be,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around her easily and tucking her against him. He hadn’t held her since the battle, hadn’t even been this close to her and he could feel it healing something inside him. Not everything was gone, not everything was irretrievable.

“Dad wants me to go and do a check of the wards before bed, if you want to go for a walk?” Mason offered, “Not sure what he wants me to look for, exactly, but I know he’s stressing about them.”

“Sure,” she smiled. She’d been inside too much in the last week and the temperature outside was beautiful in this early evening light.

Mason grabbed his wand and pulled his jumper over his head, feeling her eyes on him the whole time.

“Come on, guard duty,” he joked, tugging her along and back down the stairs.

They headed through the kitchen, where Marcus and Marie were squabbling lightheartedly as Marcus stirred sugar into his tea.

He raised his eyebrows as Mason and Lyra entered and nodded at her. “You two made up then?”

“Just about,” Lyra snorted.

“Do we want to know what our son did?” Marie asked with a laugh.

“Nope,” Mason said swiftly.

“Well I’m glad you’ve sorted it, either way, please bring it up regularly, Lyra, it’s what he deserves,” she teased and Mason stuck his tongue out at her.

“Where’s Marlene?” Lyra asked. She knew from Remus that she’d come home too, also needing her parents after Dorcas’ death.

“Upstairs I think, playing some board game with Mark,” Marie explained, sipping her tea and wrinkling her nose up as she realised that she’d picked up her husband’s. They switched mugs as she continued, “He’s been very tired recently, so he’s been in bed all day much to his annoyance.”

“I’ll say hi later,” Lyra nodded.

“We’re going to check around the edge now, Dad,” Mason added, heading to the patio door and surveying the garden.

Marcus nodded. “Good good. No canoodling now, you hear me?”

“Ew,” Mason grumbled, sliding the door open carefully, “Of course not.”

Lyra laughed and headed out onto the patio, “I promise, I’ll keep him in line.”

“That’s my girl,” Marcus winked.

Mason rolled his eyes but he was grinning as he shut the door behind them firmly. “Ignore him. Let’s go!”

She laced her fingers into his tentatively as they set off down the little path leading to the end of the garden and the edge of the property line. Despite the house being modest by Pureblood country manor standards, the garden and the fields that the family owned still stretched out a good distance from the building and they walked silently, hearing the crickets in the hedges and the soft swaying of the tall grass around them. The house wasn’t in the Muggle village – it had been built out by itself nearly a mile up the road, only accessible to wizards or very determined neighbours, which meant there was no light pollution and the clear July night offered them a gorgeous view of the stars.

Lyra stood still on the worn dirt track and tipped her head back, breathing in the still air as she scanned the sky for the familiar constellations while Mason checked the wards behind her. A muggle plane flew overhead and she watched it until she grew bored, wrapping her arms around herself and trying to quieten her mind.

Sensing Mason behind her, she leaned back and he wrapped his arms around her happily, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and keeping quiet.

“Is Sirius still away on the mission?” she asked quietly, her eyes stuck on the bright star above.

“Yeah, not sure for how long either, it depends what he can find.”

Mason could practically feel her concern and it worried him too – Sirius had grown increasingly reckless over the last few months which they’d all attributed to the loss of James but there was nothing they could do. Not even Remus was getting through to him.

He kissed her again and tightened his grip around her waist, his eyes lowering from the sky to the peaceful fields in front of them.

And then he froze, a tidal wave of dread engulfing his entire body from his chest outwards as, almost innocently, the light from the house behind them flickered green and then settled back to warm yellow.

And then it happened again, half a second later.

“Lyra,” he whispered, letting go of her and turning on the spot.

There was someone in the window, blocking the light from the kitchen. Someone that wasn’t his mum, or his dad, or even Marlene and Mark.

They moved slowly, almost gliding, and he broke into a run, not even stopping to explain.

Desperately, he tried to apparate but the wards – the damned wards – stopped him and he forced himself to move faster again, Lyra’s screams behind him barely audible through the ringing in his ears, her yell shattering the peace as she realised that his reaction could only mean one thing. His curse shattered the windows and he fired again, trying to catch the figure in the back but they’d already gone and he howled.

He felt, more than knew, that his parents were already dead. The green light hadn’t been a trick, it wasn’t something you could explain away or fight your way back from. They were dead.

So when he made it into the house he didn’t stop to check, he didn’t waste time, he just hauled himself up the stairs and slammed into the wall with the speed at which he was moving, feeling the jagged pain course through his shoulder.

“MARLENE!” he screamed, tearing his throat apart desperately as if just screaming loud enough could save them. “_MARLENE THEY’RE HERE!_”

Marlene never went anywhere without her wand, she was her father’s daughter, they’d all had it drummed into them from children, she was in the Order, she knew how to keep herself safe, she knew what to do. She might be safe, she had to be safe, she had to be okay, she-

From the bedroom at the end, the burning green light flooded the hallway as Mason screamed again, unable to move. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, he could barely see: who was it, who had that been, which of his siblings had been killed, could he save the other one, was he in time or was he just too late?

Lyra appeared in front of him, pale as the moon, her dark eyes desperate. “Mason.”

He tried to shove past her weakly but she just looked past him, back down the stairs and hurled a spell before he had a chance to ask how she’d apparated in. A Death Eater fell to the floor, wand outstretched. He didn't think Lyra had used her wand.

“We have to leave,” she panted, and he noticed in horror that there was a trickle of blood running down her hairline and collecting by her ear. He reached out for it, stunned, unable to process anything as his head span. “Mason! I don’t know how many of them there are!”

He looked back down the corridor towards his brother’s bedroom but it was far, far too late and he knew it. His heart split open once more.

She tried to react fast enough to protect both of them but he wasn’t moving and she knew he was barely present as a flickering purple curse – purple, not green, thank fuck – caught him in the side and sent him flying backwards against the landing window, the glass smashing with the impact of his body hitting the wall and slumping to the floor.

Lyra let out a strangled scream so loud she felt it tearing at her throat and shifted swiftly so Mason was behind her, offering him all the cover she could manage with her own body as she fired curse after curse down from the landing onto the Death Eaters below; the staircase splintered and broke apart, sharps of wood flying through the air as one spell went awry and she barely managed to drag herself back far enough, covering Mason’s limp form with her outstretched arms. Gasping for breath, she glanced around to check that they weren’t overwhelmed yet and wrapped her arms around him frantically, summoned the last of her dregs of her energy and, through sheer force of will, working her way through the layers of magic that remained around the house, apparated them as far away as she could.

They appeared in the middle of the field, way beyond the McKinnon’s property. Where they’d landed, the corn was flattened and broken and Mason lay on his back, unmoving – he was so horrifically still. She clamped her hand over her mouth to avoid making a single sound as she sank to her knees. Overwhelmed, she leaned over and emptied her stomach onto the ground, her whole body heaving. She stayed where she was, limbs trembling, breathing in through her mouth and out through her nose as she tried to regain some strength.

The field stayed silent with no sign of the Death Eaters following them so she allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment before she picked up her wand and summoned her Patronus. The silver thestral glided down from the clear air above the corn and paused, pawing at the ground, picking up on her distress.

“Find Alastor Moody. Tell him the McKinnons were attacked. At least three dead, I have Mason, we’re in the field north of the house in the grass. Mason needs a Healer. I… I need a Healer. Come quick,” she finished faintly. “Go, go. Quickly, please.”

She raised her hand weakly and the winged horse took off, galloping over the expanse of the grass, spreading its skeletal wings elegantly.

Lyra watched it go until she was straining her eyes to see it. Exhausted, she crawled to Mason’s side and, laying her head down next to his chest to feel his shallow breaths, she passed out, gripping his hand tightly in hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, all I can say is sorry :(  
Come find me at @astroemilyy on twitter!!


	20. July and August 1981

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: It's not stated explicitly, but there are very much descriptions of depression and suicidal ideation in this chapter. I've updated the tags but as usual, keep an eye on them for the rest of the story as I'll add stuff in when it's relevant!

At first he could hear nothing, see nothing, he could just feel the pain in his chest and side, the dull ache of his ankle, the burning sensation on the side of his face.

Slowly he pushed his senses out further, past the ringing in his ears, to the feeling of the bed under his body, the cold metal railing on each side, clothing that was not his own against his skin; he couldn’t recognise any voices and behind those voices was the occasional beep, the squeak of a polished floor, the clatter of background noise.

Mason opened his eyes and immediately regretted it as, staring the whitewashed ceiling of St Mungo’s above him, everything came flooding back in an instant.

He moaned in pain but the noise didn’t even come close to expressing the pit of emotion in his chest as his brain quickly sifted through the memories it’d repressed to allow him to sleep. The physical hurt was momentarily gone but only because he didn’t know how anything could ache as much as his heart did. He shut his eyes again, but it was too late to stop the flood of pain.

“Mason?”

She was here, of course she was. He reached out blindly for Lyra’s hand and felt her wrap hers around his, squeezing tightly as she scraped her chair closer to the bed.

“I’m so sorry,” she choked, stroking his hand and knowing it could do nothing to help him. “Merlin, Mason, I’m so so sorry.”

So no one had made it out. It was just him left. The void in his chest seemed to howl in response.

“You shouldn’t try to move,” she continued, her voice shaking, “Just because I know you – I’m telling you before you try it, you can’t move, okay? You were hit with… I don’t even know what. But it was a lot. There was a hex, and then you hit the wall, and the glass, there was wood in your leg, so please just stay still, please?”

He wanted to move. But for her, he managed a small nod, squeezing her hand back.

“They can’t get hold of Sirius,” she whispered, and he could hear her crying now. From her raspy voice, he didn’t think she’d stopped much. “Moody’s tried, Remus has tried but they can’t contact him, and he doesn’t even know yet. James and Lily don’t know yet. I shouldn’t be saying this I should be keeping my mouth shut I shouldn’t be dumping all of this on you but I don’t know what to do,” she sobbed, her nails digging into his skin as she clutched his hand like it was a life raft. “I thought I’d lost you too.”

He licked his cracked lips to try and reply but cut himself off as the door opened.

“Lyra.”

Mason strained to hear the voice from the end of the bed.

“Moody,” she whispered. “He’s awake.”

“I guessed,” Alastor said and Mason heard the older man’s stick on the floor as he moved to the other side of the bed and lowered himself into the second chair. “Easy, boy,” Moody said as Mason forced his eyes open again, turning his head slightly to look at the Auror. “Easy.”

He felt Lyra’s gaze burning into the back of his head but Mason couldn’t bring himself to look at her yet. He’d seen too much heartbreak in her eyes already. He watched Moody instead.

“I’m glad you’re still with us,” Alastor said calmly. He knew there was no need for many comforting words. They wouldn’t make a difference and he wasn’t good at them anyway so he kept it to a minimum. “I’m sorry. They didn’t deserve that.”

Mason swallowed hard and nodded ever so slightly. He wasn’t sure if _he_ was glad he was with them. Moody’s eyes moved from him to Lyra behind him.

“You should be in bed too, Black.”

“I’m resting, aren’t I?” Lyra shot back, her grip on Mason’s hand tightening as if Moody would try and drag her out the room.

“I’m not going to try and force you, Merlin knows you’d beat me up if I tried. Just be careful, alright?”

Lyra hesitated and then nodded, watching as Mason closed his eyes again. “If you need me, I’ll be here,” she said quietly, not taking her eyes off him even as she addressed Alastor.

Moody pulled himself back up out of the chair and nodded, fixing both of his eyes on her and then Mason. “I know you will be.”

She nodded and smiled at him gratefully before refocussing on Mason, watching the movement of his chest and counting each complete breath as another small blessing.

* * *

The next time Mason was conscious, Lyra was no longer in the chair by his side but had wedged herself into the space between him and the edge of the bed, her arms tucked under herself so she wouldn’t knock and hurt him. He knew he had to be on fairly strong potions because he couldn’t feel most of his body at all, only the dull, distant ache of his ribs and ankle. Ignoring her previous warning to stay still, he reached his arm across and gently brushed her hair back off her face, lingering on the bruise-like bags under her eyes and the neat row of stitches on her hair line.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at him, eyes wet with tears.

“You’re awake again,” she breathed.

He nodded, brushing her lips with the tips of his fingers, marvelling at her – so beautiful even now.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I’m floating,” he murmured, his arm dropping back to the bed but she shifted free and clasped his hand in hers. “Like I’m in a dream.”

“That’ll be the potions,” she nodded. “They’re just trying to give your body time to heal and you needed to be really out of it.”

“Did it all really happen?”

She frowned slightly.

“Are… are they really dead?”

Oh. She bit her lip. “Yes.”

“I’d hoped I’d just imagined it. That somehow I’d hit my head and it was all a horrible nightmare.”

“I’m sorry, Mason,” she breathed. “None of them suffered, they were all killed instantly.”

She didn’t know if it was really any consolation, but they’d both seen how the Death Eaters could play with their victims and it had brought her some peace at least to know that it had all been over quickly.

“You got us out,” Mason said, trying to push on before he was lost in his grief again.

“I did.”

“Thank you.”

To his horror, she started crying.

“Lyra? Ly, no don’t cry,” he mumbled, clumsily trying to wipe her eyes, “I’m grateful.”

She shook her head and moved closer to him despite the Healer’s warnings. “I thought I’d lost you. In the field, I couldn’t move, I had nothing left, and I couldn’t do anything, you were unconscious and bleeding and your chest was all the wrong shape and I had to just sit there and hope and pray and _wait_, it was torture, I-“

“Shhh,” he said quietly, hand brushing through her tangled hair. “Shhh. You’ve not lost me.”

The thought of joining his family had haunted him even in the dreamless sleep he’d been in. As much as it called to him then and still did now, he banished the thought of it for good: as long as she was still here, he could never give up.

“I love you,” she said, her voice suddenly fierce.

“I know,” he promised, “I love you too.”

“I know,” she repeated. “Sleep again if you need to. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” Mason sighed, closing his eyes again as the potions called him back. He wanted to stay awake to make sure she was alright, but he didn’t want to have to sit and think about anything anymore. Sleep was a welcome release.

* * *

_10th July 1981_

They’d wanted him to stay in bed and rest but nothing in the world would’ve stopped him from being at his own family’s funeral. Not the Healers, not Moody, not even Dumbledore himself. Lyra had convinced them that he would be better off going with their permission than sneaking out and potentially hurting himself in the process, so here they were. They had, however, insisted that he stay in a wheelchair to help keep the weight off his ankle.

Lyra had positioned them in the middle, next to where her brother was standing, staring at the ground with the coldest expression she had ever seen him wear.

Mason watched him quietly. He knew that Sirius had only been told about the family’s death when he’d arrived back from the mission he’d been on and that he’d proceeded to tear apart his flat to the extent that a neighbour had called the Muggle police on him, convinced that there was a murder happening.

His extended family were here but while his immediate family had been close, he knew that his uncles were far more right-wing, and he was relatively surprised that they’d bothered to come to the funeral of their blood traitor brother. He wasn’t sure he wanted them here, but apparently his grandmother had invited them and there was no arguing with her.

Luckily for him, he was still on strong pain potions and while he was grateful to be there, he was also grateful that he could zone out and allow the medicine to carry him through most of the service. As it was a wizarding funeral it wasn’t particularly religious – his family weren’t non-believers but neither were they church go-ers – and so he focussed instead on the headstones that someone – he didn’t even know who and he realised guiltily that it would’ve been either Remus or Lyra – had organised. The letters seemed to blur together no matter how much he blinked and he felt himself switching between looking at the four names inanely, praying this was over soon.

The next thing he remembered was Lyra’s warm hand on his back, bringing him back to reality as the wizard leading the service flicked his wand and the piles of earth shifted with a gentle rumbling to recover the graves that had been dug and filled. It was easy to regrow the grass, or even add a blanket of flowers over the bare ground but most witches and wizards kept them uncovered, allowing nature to take its course as a way of allowing themselves time to heal too.

They’d asked him what he wanted and while the idea of the family plot being beautiful felt right, it was still too soon. To see them covered in flowers when his heart was still breaking would only have hurt more and so the four rectangles remained empty as the wizard concluded his speech.

Lyra kept her hand on his back even as the other witches and wizards began to leave, muttering their apologies to him and tripping over their words before backing away hastily as if the grief was contagious.

After five minutes, only four of them remained: Mason, Lyra, Remus, Sirius.

Peter hadn’t been able to make it and James and Lily had written to beg forgiveness for not being able to leave their home despite no one blaming them in the slightest. There had been tear stains on the parchment.

The graveyard was silent as Remus moved over to stand on the other side of Mason’s wheelchair.

“I don’t know what to say,” Remus whispered, looking across at Lyra. “What do we do now?”

Lyra shook her head and wiped her eyes, moving away from Mason and slipping her arm through her brother’s.

Sirius yanked away, his jaw clenching. She could smell alcohol on him.

“Don’t, Sirius,” she warned.

“I don’t want to be comforted.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, her shoulders dropping as she followed Sirius’ gaze to Marlene’s grave.

“I should’ve been there.”

“Then you’d be dead too,” Lyra said sharply. “If you’d been in the house with her, you would’ve died. And you’d have never got there in time if you’d been at home either.”

“You were in the house and you didn’t die. Mason was in the house and he didn’t die!” Sirius snarled.

“He’s in a wheelchair, Sirius, don’t be an prick. We weren’t in the house when the attack started or we would be dead,” she snapped back. “I don’t know how you’re feeling and I don’t want to, I’m so so sorry, you know that – but he nearly died too. It’s not just your girlfriend that’s dead,” she hissed. “And you don’t get to make a scene here, do you understand? Save it for later.”

Sirius turned to look at her with a murderous expression. “Why him? Why did he get out and she didn’t, huh? Because you got to save him. You got to pick who you wanted to live and you chose your boyfriend of six months over my Marlene, over a kid, over anyone!”

Lyra sucked in a sharp breath and took a step back. “I’m not even going to deign that with a response, Sirius. Like I had a choice, like I stood there and deliberated over it. Like I had any time to _decide who lived or died_. Fuck you.”__

An emotion she couldn’t place flickered across her brother’s eyes and he turned back to the grave.

Remus stepped forward to take her place, to take his turn at trying to get through to Sirius as Lyra returned to Mason’s side, taking a breath to quell her trembling.

“Sirius,” Remus said calmly, “Do you want to get out of here? Find a pub, or a sofa to crash on, or something?”

“Not with you.”

Lyra saw Remus wince.

“One of these days you’ll tell me what it is you think I’ve done,” he said softly, but there was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“You suspect me of the exact same thing,” Sirius spat. “We’ve all thought it. It was a possibility before, but now? Moody nearly lost his other leg, James and Lily in hiding, Dorcas dead, my Lene dead, the rest of the McKinnons too, Mason nearly dead. I bet they thought Lyra or I would be there too, how did they know, huh? How did they know Dorcas would be there, at the edge, why did they cut her off?”

Lyra’s face drained of the little colour it’d had before at the mention of Dorcas. “Stop it, Sirius,” she whispered.”

“The house was covered in wards, you could barely move without being kicked back onto the grass, how did they get through? How did they _know_? Someone knows this information. Someone is feeding it to the Death Eaters and we should all be trying to work out who it is!”

“And you think it’s me?” Remus said coldly. “_You_ suspect _me_?”

“Where do you keep going? Can you provide a list of where you were and who you were with that’d make you innocent?” Sirius said, raising his voice.

“Sirius, he doesn’t deserve this!”

“He thinks it’s me, too!” Sirius said, practically hysterical now. “Go on, Remus, say it out loud. You think it’s me.”

“I… I have had my suspicions,” Remus admitted, ashamed of himself.

“Fucking hell, fuck this,” Lyra snapped, and her excessive swearing made all three men do a double take. “You’re ridiculous. This is what they want! It could be anyone in the Order, someone could be spying from outside, it could be anyone at all, and you want to point fingers at your best friend? Pathetic. Get over yourselves.”

“I didn’t take you to be so naïve, Lyra,” Sirius laughed, “Do you really think we’re all innocent? Someone betrayed us, mark my words. Someone is feeding our information to Voldemort and picking us off one by one so I’d try to be a little less friendly with old Lupin here. Turns out he’s not so friendly at certain times of-“

“Stop it,” Remus snarled, stepping forwards and jabbing his finger towards Sirius.

Lyra pushed between them quickly, stopping Sirius from retaliating and holding her hands out, pressing against their chests. “No you _both_ stop it! Look at you,” she hissed, “You should be ashamed of yourselves! Fighting after a _fucking_ funeral, accusing each other, shouting, this is ridiculous! Even if there is a mole, you’re hardly going to get a confession like this are you? Quit it!”

Sirius practically growled over her head at Remus but he did take a step backwards.

Mason pushed himself over to them, having remained silent until now, and rested his hand on the small of Lyra’s back. “Can we all just leave?” he muttered, “I don’t want to be here any longer.”

Lyra let her arms drop immediately and she turned to him, bending down to kiss him and cupping his cheek gently, feeling the tension in his jaw.

Sirius looked away, unable to watch the tender affection without a surge of bitterness.

“We can go home,” she promised, cupping his cheek and smiling. Turning back to her brother and her friend, she gave them both a warning look. “Sirius, you should go home, or come back with us and crash there. Remus, you should go home too.”

“Yeah, I think I will,” Remus muttered, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. “There’s… a lot to process.”

Sirius just shot another, softer look at Mason and then apparated away.

Remus kissed Lyra’s forehead softly and patted Mason’s back before he too left.

Then it was just the two of them.

“I don’t want to go to the flat,” Mason said hoarsely, “I want to go home.”

Lyra flinched slightly as she watched him. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, lifting his gaze from the floor to meet her eye. “I just… I just want to say goodbye on my own terms. To see the house now, even if we don’t do anything with it for a while yet.”

Lyra knew that Moody had had the Aurors clean up the worst of the mess, and make sure nothing would rot or ruin the house when they’d gone back the day after the attack. But she understood the need to go back now: it was goodbye in a way that the funeral wasn’t, it was closure on his terms.

“Of course, we can go back. I can apparate us?”

“No, I want to walk.”

The family had been buried in the closest graveyard to their home, as Mason had known they would’ve wanted, but even so it was still a way to walk, especially with his injuries.

“I… I don’t know, Mason, your ankle… It’s over a mile.”

“Please?” he whispered, holding his hand out to her. “I… I have to do this.”

She hesitated and then took it, helping him out of the chair and vanishing it for now, knowing she could bring it back if he needed.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, gripping her hand and turning towards the road. His weight on the injury burned and he suspected he was going to set back his recovery but he didn’t care. “Let’s go.”

They fell quiet as they made their way slowly onto the path and down the gentle hill towards where the McKinnon house lay, invisible to the Muggles but far too visible to them. If you didn’t know better, the house looked normal; not a leaf was out of place in the garden, not a single pane of glass on the front of the house shattered and the old oak door was sturdy on its hinges, opening quietly as Mason reached for the brass handle.

He stopped on the threshold and closed his eyes, savouring the last moment he’d have before seeing what was left of his family home.

“You don’t have to do this,” Lyra reminded him gently, one arm around his waist, close enough that he could lean on her if he needed to.

“Maybe not,” he said, and she could already hear the tears in his voice. “But I think I should.”

She pushed the door open the rest of the way and they stepped inside together. The bodies, including the Death Eaters, had all been removed, and any blood cleaned, but the ruined staircase, the splinters of glass and wood and the photo frames thrown off the shelves and broken on the ground were still there, mapping the fight that had taken place. Lyra shivered and moved closer to Mason and he rested his arm across her shoulders, gripping her tightly.

She wanted to say something but she didn’t know what to say, the words tumbling around in her mouth without order or direction. Instead, she slid her wand out and waved it, watching as the books picked themselves up, their pages flattening, their spines repaired as they slotted themselves back onto the tall bookshelves; the broad planks of the staircase pulled themselves up from the corners of the entrance hall, splinters fitting back together neatly as she continued to work, the old staircase knitting itself back together silently. Once that was fixed, she turned on her heels and pointed her wand at the photo frames still left on the floor. Before she could cast the spell, Mason lifted his arm and pushed her wand away so she let her hand drop, the spell fading from her lips. Glancing back at him, she watched the hot tears slide freely down his cheeks as he knelt carefully, pushing through the tinkling shards of glass to pick up the frame.

There was a long moment of silence again, the only movement the uneven rise and fall of his chest as he battled with himself.

Mason turned the photo over and a long low moan of pain slipped from his lips at the portrait of his family. His grip on the frame tightened, the slivers of glass stuck there cutting into his skin but he barely felt it as the grief that he’d pushed away at the funeral came surging back.

He sank to the floor, not caring that the glass there sliced him too, and he let out a scream of rage, of loss, of defeat that had Lyra rooted to the spot, her own tears raining down onto the floorboards that should never ever have seen such violence.

Mason kept screaming, and there was no other sound in the empty house.

* * *

_11th July 1981_

Get up, eat, drink, ignore Moody’s owl. Sleep.

* * *

_30th July 1981_

Get up, eat, drink, ignore Moody’s owl. Sleep.

* * *

_31st July 1981_

Get up, eat, drink, sign Harry’s birthday card. Sleep.

* * *

_15th August 1981_

Mason heard Lyra getting back in from visiting Ruth and the twins so he slowly, minding his tender ribs and the weakened ankle, forced himself out of bed, dragging an old quidditch jumper over his head and trudging into the living room. Getting up: complete.

She slipped over as quiet as a ghost and kissed him, her dark eyes soft, watching him. “You should shave,” she smiled, brushing his stubble. “Do you want some lunch?”

“Please,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her and breathing in her scent for a moment to ground himself. She moulded into his chest automatically, taking a deep breath of her own.

“You know you shouldn’t go to see them if it just upsets you,” Mason mumbled, feeling his jumper grow wet with her tears as he rocked her slightly.

“They look forward to it so much, I couldn’t stop,” Lyra said, her words muffled through the fabric.

“I hate that you have to tear yourself apart and put yourself back together every time,” he countered quietly. “I understand it, I understand, I do,” he croaked, “But it isn’t healthy.”

Not that he was one to talk. He hadn’t left the house in about a month, he’d lost weight, he needed a hair cut as well as a shave and he hadn’t been back home or to the graveyard since that day.

She pulled away and stared up at him pleadingly, the bags under her dark eyes nearly drowning her whole face. It made him want to hold her and never let go, fuck the rest of the world – let it go to shit, as long as he could keep her safe.

“I know it isn’t,” she sobbed, “But they’re the last piece of _her_ that I have. I can’t let them go, I can’t.”

Manoeuvring her onto the sofa, he dragged a blanket around her shoulders and kissed her again firmly, wiping away her tears even as she kept crying.

Eventually, however, her shoulders lowered, and her tears dried up. She leaned her head on his shoulder and took a shaky breath, forcing herself to focus only on the in and out of her lungs, in time with his.

“I can make lunch,” Mason promised, stroking her hair. “I’ll do it. You do enough.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, kissing him gratefully, her shoulders dropping with exhaustion.

Eat, drink, help Lyra shower, change the sheets together with the ghosts of real laughter dancing around them as he tangled her in the bedding. Sleep.


	21. September 1981

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (CW contains spoilers for the chapter!)
> 
> CW: pregnancy, taking a pregnancy test, references to abortion, keeping this news from a partner, very mild references to abusive relationships where women are expected to have children, mentions of past disordered eating. If these things bother you, please be super careful with this chapter as the entire thing revolves around these points. I'll leave a short description at the bottom so you can catch up! x

_1st September 1981_

Mason had finally replied to Moody’s frequent owls and had made it into the Ministry to attempt getting back to work. Lyra hadn’t gone in; she knew it was something he needed to do alone, but she _was_ immensely proud. In her own letters to Moody, and when she’d seen him around the Ministry, they’d shared their concerns that Mason wouldn’t make it back at all, either to work or to the war effort in general. With the injuries on top of his trauma, it hadn’t been certain at all. Not that she’d been surprised – you didn’t come back from a loss like that easily, and plenty of people never did. The fact that he was still functioning was something she didn’t take for granted.

But there was another reason she’d wanted him out of the flat today.

She took a big gulp of tea, which she’d only recently began to enjoy again, set the mug down and then placed both of her hands flat on the table, grounding herself as she stared at the little box.

It was a Muggle invention, but she’d felt far less likely to be caught in a Muggle shop than in Diagon Alley shopping for the wizarding version, and the spell wasn’t one she was confident she could perform properly – it was something Marlene could’ve done, and would’ve done gladly, Lyra knew, but Marlene wasn't here. If she was doing this herself, the Muggle method was the most reliable.

Picking it up, she moved into their little bathroom and carefully slid the stick out of the box. Swallowing hard, she read and then reread the instructions before following them all gingerly and setting the contraption on the side. And then… she waited.

The two minutes crept by achingly slowly as she gnawed on her bottom lip, her knee bouncing as she leaned back against the bathtub from her spot on the floor. Honestly, she wasn’t sure why she was bothering with this dumb test except to have the answer there in front of her, to have the suspicion confirmed once and for all. Lyra picked up the stick hesitantly, slowly cracking one eye open, then the other, then staring.

The tiredness, the nausea, the missing periods, all of which she’d written off to stress and grief and burnout, the sudden aversion to tea that she’d only just got over, the weight gain despite nothing about her diet changing, it all made sense now.

She let out a sudden sob and clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle the noise even though she knew she was alone in the flat.

She was pregnant. She was pregnant, and there was no one she could tell – no one who would know about these things. No mother, no sisters, no Dorcas or Marlene or Marie, no one who could tell her what she was supposed to do or how she was supposed to tell Mason. No way of knowing if Mason even wanted this because they’d never discussed it and right now seemed like the worst time in the world.

She sobbed again, gasping for air as she curled up on the floor of the bathroom, her hands wrapping around her stomach automatically. The test sat patiently on the toilet seat with its perfect, undeniable plus sign.

* * *

After nearly an hour sat on her bathroom floor, Lyra pulled herself up, washed her face, tipped out her now cold cup of tea and apparated to Sirius’ flat. Her logic was that if anyone would help, it would be her big brother, but she also knew logic didn’t get you very far with Sirius these days.

She knocked and waited, tugging the sleeves of Mason’s jumper down over her hands and wrapping them around herself again. She’d forgotten her coat and it was cold for September.

“Lyra?” Sirius said from the other side of the door. “Is that you?”

“Yeah,” she said miserably, looking into the peephole that she knew he’d be on the other side of. “It’s me.”

“Security info?”

“You’ve got two birthmarks on the back of your left ankle that look like a little snake bite and you always played the dragon who kidnapped me in games as a kid,” she mumbled. “Can I come in?”

Sirius opened the door slowly and tugged her inside. Since Marlene’s death, the distrust that he’d been struggling with even before had spiralled into near-crippling paranoia and even familial trust was thin these days but she took being let in as a good sign and looked around.

“What do you want?” Sirius asked, making a half-hearted effort to clear a space on one of the sofas for her to sit down.

“It’s okay,” she said hastily, grabbing his arm and stopping him, taking in the unkempt beard and the state of the flat and the faint but noticeable smell of Firewhiskey. “I just… I just need a brother right now.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong with Mason?”

“No, no!” she said quickly, knowing that Sirius’ issues over the loss of Marlene had somehow seeped into a hatred of Mason – something akin to survivor’s guilt but warped, as most of his emotions seemed to be these days. “Well… kind of,” she whispered.

Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “What is it? If he’s hurt you, I’ll kill him.”

“Oh for goodness sake. Nevermind,” she muttered, tucking her hair behind her ears and shaking her head. “It’s okay, honestly.” She knew Sirius would absolutely take her news as Mason hurting her even if she tried to say otherwise.

Sirius let his gaze flick over her quickly and then he rolled his eyes and didn’t press the subject. “Right, fine, whatever. I’m going on another mission tonight anyway so I dunno if I’d have been able to help.”

“Cool,” she said quietly, heading for the door.

“Talk when I’m back though, okay?” Sirius said, grabbing her sleeve quickly, sensing that maybe he’d done something wrong even if he didn’t know what it was. If Marlene had been here, he guessed it would be one of the times she punched his arm and gave him a look. He didn’t notice much outside of his own grief any more but Lyra looked… worse than he'd seen her. More like how she'd been living at Grimmauld Place.

She managed a little smile. “Sure. I love you, Sirius.”

“I… I love you too, L. Look after yourself,” he frowned.

“You too,” she nodded, hating how final she sounded.

She had one more option left and realistically, she should’ve gone to Remus first. Why she’d thought Sirius would be a sympathetic listener she didn’t know. She shut Sirius’ door behind her and then apparated once more, landing on Remus’ doorstep and steadying herself, cursing as she remembered that she should probably be avoiding travelling like that now.

Remus opened the door to her once she’d identified herself and immediately put the kettle on, seeing her pale cheeks and worried expression. He didn’t ask any questions until she was sat down with a hot tea in her hands, and only once he was sat opposite did he open his mouth.

“What’s up?”

Lyra took a deep breath, let it out slowly and licked her lips. It was the moment of truth. She had to tell someone.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud, but… I’m pregnant,” she whispered, levelling her gaze at him and watching his eyes widen and then settle as he processed the information.

“Oh.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she laughed nervously, tightening her grip around the mug and shifting on the seat.

“How far along?” Remus asked, glancing down at her stomach – he would never have guessed so either she just wasn’t showing yet, or this was a very new predicament.

“I’m… not exactly sure. A… a few months, maybe? Four, maximum?”

“And I assuming by the fact that you’re here and alone that this wasn’t planned and Mason doesn’t know?” Remus checked, leaning forwards.

“You’d be assuming correctly, this was… unexpected, we’d thought we’d been careful,” Lyra admitted, “And I have… no clue what to do next.”

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I think you know what my advice will be.”

“Tell Mason?” she said, shivering involuntarily as she imagined how much harder she was going to find it to speak to him.

“Lyra, he needs to know!”

She made a little noise and swallowed another nervous gulp of tea. “I – I don’t know how he’d react,” she whispered, “This – this was very much not planned. We were trying to _avoid_ this! He’s a wreck, I’m a wreck, the war is still going on, we’re both targets, a baby is the worst idea ever!”

“And yet you haven’t just… dealt with it?” Remus said awkwardly, hating the words coming out of his mouth. “Purebloods in particular must have some way of dealing with unwanted babies, if-“

“Please don’t,” she whimpered, shaking her head. “I don’t know what scares me more, keeping it or _that_.”

“And I can’t make that decision for you, you knew that before you came here,” Remus protested, moving to sit next to her because she looked close to tears. “You know who can help though?”

She put her mug down and buried her face in her hands. “How could I be so _stupid_?” she cried, “I’m such an _idiot_! What would my mother think! Nineteen and pregnant and fighting in a war with no end in sight. I’m an idiot."

“Right, because this is all your fault, Mason is responsible for none of this,” Remus said sarcastically but he tried to keep his tone light, rubbing her shoulders gently. “This is not just your problem, and I _know_ you’re scared, God knows Lily was when she found out she was pregnant with Harry, but you don’t have to do this alone.”

She kept crying, trying and failing to stop thinking about Mason’s reaction. Remus wrapped his arms around her carefully and rocked them back and forth slowly, closing his own eyes and praying that it all got less complicated soon.

“I’m sorry for coming here and sobbing all over you like always,” she whispered after another minute, her whimpers having slowly grown quieter. She wiped her eyes and pulled away. “I’m an awful friend.”

“You’re not, this is what friends are for,” Remus smiled, “We’ve got to have each other’s backs. Especially now-”

‘Now we’re the only ones left’ hung in the air after he finished speaking.

She nodded slowly and grabbed a tissue to blow her nose, “Even so, any time you feel like having a breakdown on me, you’re more than welcome,” she said with the ghost of a smile.

He snorted and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, Black. I don’t do breakdowns, they’re your thing.”

“Say it isn’t so,” she giggled wetly, running her fingers through her hair to smooth it out. "Am I really that predictable?"

Remus smiled back and then his expression fell serious again. “You will tell him though, won’t you?”

Her smile dropped and she bit her lip, shrugging. “I… I don’t know. Maybe not yet.”

“Lyra, you don’t have forever, you know?”

“Believe me, I know,” she mumbled, her hand skimming across her stomach. “Soon. I’ll tell him soon.”

Remus got the feeling that was the closest he’d get to a definite promise so he nodded. “And I’ll keep my mouth shut for now. Deal?”

“Deal,” she breathed.

Remus glanced at the clock and sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I hate to kick you out, but I need to go and meet Moody, it’s more Order stuff and he made it sound urgent.”

“No, no, please don’t be late on my account,” she said hastily, sniffing and wiping her eyes fiercely with the back of her hand, “If Moody will be with you, it means Mason will probably be home soon anyway, and I need to sort myself out.”

“Okay,” he said gently, “But I won’t be away for long, owl me if you need me and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“I don’t deserve you, Rem,” she smiled.

He chuckled as he stood up, rolling his shoulders out. “I know, I’m an angel.”

“You are,” Lyra laughed, sending her mug flying back through to his kitchen so he wouldn’t have to clean up after her. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“That’s a promise,” he smiled, “Take care.”

Lyra flashed him a little smile as she slipped back out of the apartment, hating that there was now a large part of her that worried if it was a final goodbye every time she left.

* * *

_4th September 1981_

Regulus’ twenty first birthday passed with no word from him. The subject was too painful and Mason carefully didn't bring it up. Lyra didn’t get out of bed at all.

_22nd September 1981_

It had taken a while but gradually they’d fallen back into a semi-normal routine. Mason still barely slept, still went to work and came back drained and couldn’t face it again for another day; Lyra still continued to visit Dorcas' sisters despite the sight of them tearing the stitches out of her healing heart every single time. They still clung to her every time and asked about her and Mason and she still came home and cried into her pillow with Mason’s arms around her.

They got through painfully, taking each day as it came and waiting for news, good or bad, from Moody.

An owl arrived one morning, as Lyra slowly ate some toast and Mason frowned, thanking the owl and turning the letter over in his hands, before his expression cleared.

“It’s from Lily,” he smiled, sitting opposite her and opening it carefully, not wanting to rip the envelope, treating it like it was far more precious than paper and ink.

_Dear Mason and Lyra, _

_I know it’s a silly thing to say, but I hope you’re both doing okay. We’re all sending our love, and wishing we were with you. We’re managing as best we can and Harry, bless him, is helping to keep us going but I know James is finding it hard, Dumbledore has asked that he don’t leave the house at all now we know someone is leaking information so please keep writing, he likes to hear from you._

_Lyra, try rotating out food, find what’s making you feel sick and go from there! And fluffy socks and hot water bottles too! Best of luck my love._

_Harry is currently clambering onto that awful broomstick Sirius got him for his birthday so I’ll have to go and intervene because God knows James won’t (men are useless) but please write back soon, let me know how you both are, and attach a new book if the owl can manage it!_

_All my love,_

_ Lily x_

Mason read it several times carefully and then passed it to Lyra, rubbing his temples slowly. Although the letter read cheerfully, he knew Lily, and he knew James, and he knew they’d be going mad. They’d spent too long cooped up, and it wasn’t fair on a one year old either but there was no other way to guarantee as much safety for them all.

“What did she mean, about the hot water bottles?” Mason asked, watching her read the letter too, her eyes flickering backwards and forwards.

Lyra looked up quickly and took a sharp breath. She hated that she was about to lie to him but she hadn’t managed to pluck up the courage to tell him yet. “Nothing, I just mentioned that I’d been under the weather in my last letter and she was offering some advice.”

Mason nodded and stirred some more sugar into his coffee before taking a gulp. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Still a bit weird,” she mumbled, running a hand through her hair and smiling. “But better.”

“Good,” he smiled, kissing her hair as he passed by to go and shower. He had more energy today and wanted to make the most of it.

Lyra sighed slightly as she watched him go, reading the letter again and then smiling to herself. Lily had picked up on her hints in her letter and managed to get an answer back without spelling it out to Mason. She was an angel. It was less for morning sickness now and more for just general discomfort as it got harder to hide her situation and more uncomfortable to live with it.

Mason popped his head back around the door and smiled. “Do you want to do anything today? Or just… chill?”

They’d had a lot of chill days recently.

“I don’t mind,” she promised, crossing her legs on her seat and shrugging. “Whatever.” She finished her toast slowly.

“Maybe a walk?”

Lyra smiled and nodded; she’d take anything, and the fresh air would do them both good.

“Cool, I’ll find another jumper, it’s cold.”

“Can you grab me your Quidditch one? I like that one,” she called. All of her jumpers were far too form fitting for her liking these days.

“Thief!”

She giggled. “Are you going to say no?”

“… No.”

Lyra laughed again and enjoyed the sound of him laughing too – the flat hadn’t seen much of it recently and the sound of it soothed something inside her.

* * *

_30th September 1981_

“Happy birthday, beautiful.”

Lyra stirred and opened her eyes sleepily, smiling when she felt him kiss her quickly. “Mmm, thank you. Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he chuckled, stealing another kiss and wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m not getting up yet,” she warned, “I want a lie in.”

“I think we can manage that,” he grinned, having had no intentions to move just yet anyway. “There are some presents here if you fancy sitting up.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There are?”

Mason mimicked her and raised an eyebrow too. “It’s your birthday, of course there are.”

Lyra snorted and rolled her eyes, running her finger over his chest lightly, ghosting across the line of his ribs where he’d been hurt before, silently casting a prayer out that there had been no lasting damage. “You’re awful.”

“No, I’m Mason,” he said with the ghost of a smirk. He was most like himself on these kinds of mornings, before they had to get up and remember where they were and what had happened, and she loved the stolen minutes when he joked and laughed like he used to.

“Alright, smart arse,” she grinned, crinkling up her nose and sitting up, keeping the covers over her lap carefully. “What have I got?”

“Lily sent a parcel for you, I really don’t know how the owl carried that and I’m not going to ask what’s in it, she says it’s for your eyes only which scares me,” he snorted, “Remus said he’d bring his over later, this one is mine and the flat one is from Sirius.”

Lyra smiled and glanced over to her bedside table where the little notebook from Dorcas last year lay in the top drawer. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“An excuse to buy you shit that you’d never accept normally?” Mason scoffed, “I’ve been planning this for ages.”

She leaned back against his chest happily as he dragged the presents over and she reached for Sirius’ first, unwrapping the records carefully and reading the attached note. After he’d trashed his flat, he’d slowly set about putting it back together and had passed on the records he knew she’d liked when she’d stayed, promising that a record player would follow it soon enough.

“Any decent ones or has he just dumped all the shitty B sides on you?”

“No, they’re good ones, I even got Summer Nights!” she grinned, stealing a kiss as he leaned over her shoulder. “Lucky me.”

Mason hummed happily and then grabbed his present for her from the end of the bed. “Okay, now mine!”

“You’re a child,” she grinned, “And you’ve also gone overboard!”

He scoffed. “This is tame, my mum would’ve…”

She sighed softly as he trailed off, the light in his eyes dulling and she turned around on his lap to brush her hands though his hair and trace the line of his jaw gently. “I know,” she smiled, “It’s okay.”

“I’d hoped I’d get through today without us having to do this, it shouldn’t be about that, not on your birthday,” he whispered, blinking her and tightening his arms around her.

She shook her head. “Before you even do it, don’t even think about apologising. You can’t turn this stuff on and off, you know you can’t. Today is still a day like any other, probably even harder when this sort of things only reminds you of who isn’t here,” she breathed, rubbing his chest where she knew it always tightened up as he tried to breathe carefully.

He kept his eyes on her as she took a breath in, feeling him copy.

“That’s it,” she murmured, smiling. “Better.”

“You can open your present if you want, I’ll… I’ll be okay with a distraction.”

She nodded and picked up the smaller of the carefully wrapped presents, sliding her finger under the wrapping paper and revealing the little square frame.

She gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “Is this?”

“It is.”

“And did you…?”

“I did,” he laughed.

The tiny painting perfectly depicted the view from her bedroom window back in the old flat, the view she’d loved so much. It was a Muggle painting, the bright acrylics showing it at sunrise, the rooftops glowing. It was exactly how it had looked when they'd dragged themselves out of bed ready for their early shifts, still wrapped up in blankets with Dorcas fast asleep next door. She wiped her eyes as she traced a finger over it delicately, marvelling at the detail. He’d mentioned a few times that he’d painted, but she didn’t know he’d done any recently.

“It’s… _beautiful_, thank you,” she choked. Since the flat had been packed up and resold, she’d missed waking up to that view. Having a piece of that flat, the first place that had felt like home, was priceless to her.

He nudged her and tugged the other parcel over. “This one is kind of a group one, but it’s me who put it together so I get the credit.”

She sniggered and felt its weight, looking at him curiously.

“Just open it!”

Unwrapping it happily, she carefully lifted the cover open, revealing the pages of Muggle polaroids and magical photographs and Mason’s careful handwriting under every one with a date, names and a description. There were some from training with the camera Dorcas had taken with her, some from her graduation, even some from moving into the old flat with all their friends looking very unimpressed with the number of boxes they were carrying. And then there were Mason’s ones, all the ones of her he’d taken because he could never resist taking photos when she saw on the sofa reading, curled up with a cup of tea, or half buried under their blankets in bed in the early mornings when he woke restless. There were stacks and stacks of photos that hadn't made it in because although he thought she looked amazing in all of them, she would've howled at the unflattering angles.

She turned each page reverently, pausing on the page of her and Dorcas from his birthday party, pulling stupid faces at Harry on the rug and the one Marcus had taken of his whole family when she’d been for dinner.

“Mason, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I know you don’t have much stuff from before you left home, Lily once asked me if I’d go to Grimmauld Place and get more of your stuff but it felt wrong to do it secretly and you’d mentioned you didn’t want to go back so we had to improvise. Sirius had some photos at least, I know for a fact he put one in there of baby you and Reg – which is insanely cute, by the way, who knew you were a chubby toddler? – but I also know that that’s all you had, so I – _we_ – wanted you to be able to start this album. Obviously it’s only a year’s worth of stuff, but-“

“It’s _perfect_,” she breathed, flinging her arms around him and holding onto him tightly, “Oh Merlin, I love you.”

Mason laughed and covered her in kisses, tugging her back down happily. “Happy birthday, Ly.”

She kissed him properly, cupping his cheeks as she smiled, blinking away tears. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Not true at all,” he laughed in between kisses.

“Very true,” she grinned, laughing as he rolled them over, getting them both hopelessly tangled in their sheets.

Mason declined to answer, he just deepened the kiss and smiled, brushing his hands down her sides.

She shivered in anticipation and then her eyes widened as she realised the difficulty of her situation. She wanted birthday sex, but that would invariably mean taking off the nightshirt she was wearing which would mean having the noticeably large bump she was now dealing with on display. Which would mean some awkward questions. But how did she get out of this when they’d both been struggling far too much the last few months to even get close to this? She was going to ruin everything no matter how this went.

“What?” he smiled, pulling back slightly and then his eyes lit up with realisation. She froze.

“The presents are still on the bed,” he said, moving away to put them somewhere safe, not wanting anything to be damaged.

Lyra pulled the sleeves of her night shirt down over her hands nervously as she watched him and he turned back, raising an eyebrow at her expression.

“Okay so that wasn’t it, there’s something else?”

She bit her lip and he waited quietly for her to speak.

She made a little conflicted noise and kissed him back so he slid his arms around her waist, happily inching under the shirt until she sucked a sharp breath in and pulled back again, squeezing her eyes shut and kneading her brow.

“A-are you okay?” he frowned, thinking she was hurt. “What’s wrong? Do you have a headache or something?”

“No, no, not that,” she whispered, her heart pounding. This was it, this was when she had to tell him. Merlin, this wasn’t how she’d wanted this to go. This was her punishment for putting it off for so long.

Mason shifted closer again and tilted her chin up softly. “Talk to me? Because if this is just because this has come out of nowhere, I get it. I know I’ve been… shitty the last few months, I wanted to-“

“It’s not you at all,” she croaked, her throat suddenly very dry as she fought against her panic to get the words out. “It’s me, I promise. And it’s not that I don’t want to – do that. I do. I just can’t take my top off.”

His frown deepened. “Why? Wait… have you not been eating again?” he whispered, “Have I – have I completely missed this? _Fuck_. You’ve not had a problem with that since we first met, did I-“

“It’s not that either,” she promised, covering his mouth with her hand to stop him rambling guiltily and to give herself time to work out what she wanted to say. Where did she even start?

“Please don’t be mad,” she whispered, looking up at him beseechingly. “Please don’t say anything just yet, either I need to… I don’t know, I just… I didn’t think this through.”

He watched her with concern but didn’t try to say anything so she dropped her hand and hid them in the long sleeves again, taking a deep breath.

Knowing she couldn’t say it in so many words yet, she just sent another quick prayer upwards and then dragged the shirt over her head, dumping it next to them and watching him. His eyes ran over her quickly, evidently checking for any weight loss and the skinniness he’d seen when she’d first started training a year ago, but there was none of that, and so at first he didn’t notice that he was looking at the opposite. And then he _did_ notice. She reached out nervously and held his hand, the lump in her throat too big to speak through even if she’d known what to say.

“Uh,” he said, swallowing. Terrified he was jumping to conclusions, he glanced up at her for confirmation and the fear in her eyes told her everything he needed to know. “Oh my God.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head as she started to cry. “I’m sorry, I suspected but didn’t do anything, I thought I was just being paranoid, and then everything happened and I just didn’t think about it, but I wasn’t being paranoid I was _right_ and then it was far too late and I didn’t know what to say or how to say it, I didn’t know what you’d think-“

“Oh my _God_,” Mason said, his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, leaning her head on his shoulder, shaking as her panic came to a head now she was faced with potential disaster.

Mason was just staring blankly at the wall behind her but he tugged her onto his lap automatically, gathering the blankets around her again before she got cold. “You’re pregnant?” he croaked, his mouth finally working again as his brain caught up.

Her answering sob was all the confirmation he needed.

“Shhh, shhh,” he breathed, rubbing her back in slow circles as she fell apart against him, the secret out with no way to take it back. “It’s okay, I promise.”

She wound her arms around his neck as she broke down and he knew better than to try and talk just yet – it’d only work her up again and he’d long since learned it was best to let her cry things out and compose herself.

Eventually she quietened and wiped her eyes roughly, wrapping the blanket around herself and pulling back, turning her red rimmed gaze on him as he studied her, his eyes soft.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered. “I… I assume you’ve known for a while.”

“A few weeks for definite, I suspected a while before,” she admitted, wiping her nose miserably. “I… I barely believed it myself, I didn’t _want_ to believe it and I was so _scared_.”

“Of what I’d think?” he frowned.

“Of course, because it’s far too late to do anything about it, and-“

“Do you _want_ to do anything about it?” Mason said, raising an eyebrow. “What I want is secondary, surely you know that?”

“No,” she said, a slightly hysterical edge to her voice, “I don’t know that! We’ve never discussed this, we were actively trying to avoid this, and even though you’re you and you’re lovely, I was never raised – never told – to think that I would have a say in this at all!”

Mason often forgot that this was probably the situation she’d have been in if she’d not left home, except it would’ve been with Robert Avery and her _husband’s_ preferences would not be secondary at all, all of this would’ve been out of her hands.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, “I know you weren’t, but this is me telling you right now that I will do whatever you want, whatever that is. Right now I am, uh, startled, to say the least, but only because, sure, we weren’t really expecting this. Not because I hate you and I’m kicking you out or making a decision for you,” he said firmly, cupping her cheek.

She searched his expression for any indication that he was lying and found none, so she forced herself to take a deep breath and closed her eyes to gather her thoughts.

“I got a book,” she explained quietly, “It says it’s too late to… stop it. Both Muggle or magical methods have to be much earlier, but I didn’t even _know_ then, so whatever happens we have to… we have to-“

“Lyra, don’t get stuck in your head,” he smiled gently, still watching her as she opened her eyes again nervously, “Don’t speculate, don’t calculate all the odds, don’t lay out every eventuality to me, just talk to me, love. What do you _want_?”

“It’s not that easy,” Lyra whispered, “There’s too much to consider. I turn twenty _today_, that’s… that’s so young. And the war! We’re still fighting a war, Mason, and neither of us are exactly in the best headspace for this.”

“Okay, but all of that is… an extra issue, sure, but nothing insurmountable,” he promised, “Do you want a baby? I wouldn’t blame you for saying no. You just got out of that situation, if you’re not thrilled to be getting back into it then fine, we’ll figure something out.”

“It’s not that,” she promised, “This isn’t _anything_ like that, you’re nothing like him, it’s not that.”

“Good to know,” he smiled, “But the offer still stands.”

For the first time since taking the test, she stared at him and truly considered what she wanted.

“If I wanted it, would you? You say you’re secondary, but you still have to have a say,” she breathed, trembling. “I couldn’t do it without you.”

“I would,” he said sincerely, “Sure, I didn’t think we’d do this yet, but if you think I’d not daydreamed about it then you don’t know me. And we can’t let James and Lily have all the fun,” he added, poking her sides gently.

She giggled wetly and let out the breath she’d been holding, feeling dizzy with relief. “I know I should’ve told you sooner, can you forgive me?”

Mason rolled his eyes. “I’m not even answering that. There’s nothing to forgive.”

“This is insane, you realise this is insane,” she said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, but no more insane than anything else we’ve done in the last year,” he pointed out, moving his hands to run over the gentle bump of her stomach. “How in hell did I not notice this?! How far along are you?”

She snorted. “You think you’re so observant! Lily worked it out via letter after just a few hints about feeling sick and putting on weight. And… I reckon it was early May, so about five months, ish? Maybe a little less.”

Mason scoffed. “That’s not as bad as I thought, I was worried we’d only have a month to get everything sorted. And sure, but she _knows_ about this stuff! I just thought you were ill because that’s what you told me!”

“I thought it was that too!” she protested.

“Ly, I love you, but at what point when you didn’t get your period did you not go ‘hmm, this is unusual’?” he grinned.

“You can just not get it when you’re stressed too, I thought – I mean I wasn’t really thinking at all,” she corrected, “I really should’ve figured it out earlier.”

“Oh well,” he smiled, “We know now.”

“That we do.”

He laughed and tugged her down for another hug, tucking her against him. “We do! We’re having a baby!”

“Mason,” she whined playfully as he pulled the covers over their heads. She didn’t know why she’d ever been scared to tell him, her loveable idiot.

“Nope, we’re staying in bed and snuggling all day.”

She huffed but she was smiling as she relaxed, closing her eyes again. There was a lot to do, a lot they should’ve done already if she’d known earlier, told him earlier, but that could wait for another day. For now she was content to stay in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catch up:
> 
> Mason is at work so Lyra takes a pregnancy test. She already knew but wanted physical confirmation - she's pregnant. She goes to see Sirius, but doesn't tell him because he's too upset still. She then visits Remus, who listens and she tells him. He agrees to keep quiet so Lyra can tell Mason on her own terms.
> 
> Skip to 4th September. It's Regulus' birthday but no word from him.
> 
> Time skip to 22nd September. Lyra hasn't told Mason, but they're kind of getting back to work etc slowly. Letter from Lily arrives, she worked out about the baby from Lyra's hints in a previous letter and offers advice.
> 
> Skip to 30th September. Lyra's birthday! Mason painted her the view from her bedroom at the flat with Dorcas and worked with their friends to make her a photo album. They start to mess around, intending to have sex but Lyra realises this will involve showing Mason her stomach. She freaks out, he thinks it's because he's been so out of it recently so she forces herself to show him. They know it's too late for any other option, they'll have to keep the baby. Lyra is upset because if she'd been with Avery still, she would never have had a choice but Mason reassures her it's her decision and that she should think about what _she_ wants as a priority. She admits she wants this, and they reconcile and he jokes around, also excited!!


	22. October 1981

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new content warnings, but again things like grief, pregnancy, etc will all apply from here on out. Keep an eye on tags! I won't note them here each chapter, but if there's anything new I'll let you know!

_11th October 1981_

“Do you know what today is?” Mason said, wrapping his arms around her from behind as she surveyed the now nearly empty spare room.

“A Monday?”

“Well yes, Miss Practical,” he grinned, kissing her quickly and running his hand over her belly. “But _today_, do you know what today is?”

“Not a clue,” she snorted, “Have you left my tea in the kitchen?”

Mason vanished quickly to get it and once she was drinking it happily he continued.

“A year ago today was the storm!”

She raised an eyebrow. “The storm? Oh! Where you should’ve kissed me and didn’t?” she teased.

Rolling his eyes, he smiled, “Yeah, that one.”

“That was really only a year ago?” she said gently, watching him. “It feels like a lifetime ago. A lot has happened since.”

Mason laughed and poked her side carefully, “You don’t say. What would one year ago Lyra have thought if she’d seen this?”

“That Dorcas had finally succeeded in her meddling,” she laughed, pointing to the last box that needed removing from what would be the baby’s rooms.

They’d decided that seeing as they were working on a tight schedule with the baby – who, after Lyra finally went to St Mungos for a check-up, was doing okay and was due at the end of January – they wouldn’t try and move now. His family home was still off limits both because they weren’t sure if it was structurally safe and because he wasn’t ready for that, and while the flat wasn’t ideal, the spare room, previously just filled with crap, would work fine and they both felt a move would be too much.

“You wouldn't be happy? You wouldn’t have been overjoyed knowing you ended up with me?” Mason teased.

“I’d think how on earth did I get myself knocked up, even if it was with the hot instructor,” she said dryly, smiling despite herself, “Get lifting!”

“Yes boss.”

When they’d told Moody and the others about the baby, there had been mixed reactions: Remus was just pleased Lyra had told Mason and he could now get excited too, Peter had seemed absolutely terrified so they hadn’t bothered telling him anything else and Sirius had been stunned into silence for a long time before managing to congratulate them. Lyra had suspected there was still some resentment there, some unshakeable knowledge that with Marlene’s death all of this had been stolen from him, but she knew he was trying, and that meant a lot.

Moody however, had been protectively furious – he’d worked backwards from her due date and worked out that it meant she’d been fighting whilst pregnant and had gently but forcefully barred her from any missions, which she wasn’t even mad about as she was increasingly uncomfortable and would much rather be sitting down than duelling. Mason was back at ‘work’ but only with the Order. Moody, bypassing Crouch’s orders that all Aurors be available at all times, had told him he didn’t need to come in until he was ready. Mason had accepted gratefully but had decided he could still help the Order; it was helping him get back on his feet, having more routine and something to focus on, and so Lyra didn’t begrudge him it when she knew he was being careful for her sake now.

The pair were now focussing on getting the flat and themselves ready – three months didn’t seem like a long time and while she didn’t regret their decision, she did wish it wasn’t so frantic.

“Room clear,” Mason said triumphantly, brushing his hands together. “Time to paint?”

“You want to paint today?” Lyra checked, leaning against him as she surveyed the room again.

“If you’re up for it? Gives it time to dry while I’m out tomorrow,” Mason added, “And I’ve got an errand to run later, bits to pick up.”

“Sure, then let’s paint,” she smiled. He’d wanted to do it the Muggle way as much as possible: the whole room could’ve been done in a day if they’d just used magic, the paint dried, the furniture put up, the frames hung perfectly level but that was boring, and he knew if they did that, they’d be back to having nothing to do and Lyra would go mad with boredom. He did, however, crack open the paint tin using magic – he wasn’t stupid.

Lyra grabbed the paintbrushes and handed him one with a grim. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, because I don’t at all.”

“Yeah, we’ve got this,” he smiled, his expression softening, “My dad used to make us do DIY all the time, he liked doing it the Muggle way too. Is that an old jumper? It’ll probably get trashed.”

She nodded and checked the colour of the paint again before straightening up. “Let’s do this!”

Mason laughed, set the needle on the record player in the corner and waggled his eyebrows. “Let’s.”

* * *

Needless to say, Lyra was awful, if it was possible to be bad painting when you weren’t even doing the edges. Mason ended up doing most of it because she conceded defeat and spent most of the time sat on the chair they’d brought in, trying to wipe paint off herself. But it had been fun even if she’d never thought she’d enjoy doing menial muggle tasks, and the room looked better already with the soft grey on the walls covering the weird cream paint of before.

“We did it!” Mason grinned, stepping back, dropping the brush and wiping paint onto her nose with a smirk.

She whined. “You did it! I was… emotional support.”

“A very vital part of the process,” he sniggered.

She wiped the paint off, wrinkling her nose up. “I hope so.”

“It was!” he promised, using his sleeve to clean her face with a snigger before kissing her. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she admitted, “But I’m okay, it’s just because I’ve been on my feet.”

“I’ll make dinner,” Mason promised, “Unless you want a takeaway? I’m going to swing round to Sirius’ place while he’s away to check on things anyway so I can get something.”

She considered that as she settled back onto the chair. “Maybe? That Chinese is good, the one on the corner.”

Mason grinned. “Predictable.”

“I have about nineteen years of takeaways to catch up on,” she scoffed, “Don’t judge me.”

“I’d never judge you, my love,” he teased, waving his wand to clean up after them.

“While you’re doing that I might try and sort through some of the boxes, what’s even in them?!”

“Merlin knows,” Mason admitted, helping her through to the living room and settling her on the sofa. “Throw away what you want, I can guarantee it’ll all be rubbish.”

“And you say you’re not a hoarder,” she grinned, watching him search for his jacket.

Mason gave her a look but his eyes were sparkling. “I won’t be long, send a Patronus if you need me.”

“You too, stay safe,” she smiled, rolling her eyes at his cheesiness but ‘catching’ the kiss he blew her as he left.

* * *

Mason did have to check in on Sirius’ flat, and he did have some errands to run, but he also had another item on his to do list. Once he’d established that Sirius’ flat was secure and he’d picked up more milk, he apparated once more, appearing on the gravel driveway of his family home.

Taking a deep breath, he tucked the milk into his bag and looked around him. After the attack, in the hazy days following his time in hospital, he’d managed somehow (he suspected Lyra had guided him through it) to set up some basic wards around the property to keep Muggles and trespassers away so from the outside there was no evidence that anyone had been here. The weeds were starting to push their way up through the gravel, the only evidence of time passing with no one to look after the place and so Mason quickly cast a spell to unroot them all, not wanting all his mum’s hard work to go to waste.

He wiped his already wet eyes, and moved forwards purposefully, letting himself into the house that seemed to recognise him, the door swinging open smoothly.

The house was dark and quiet, so Mason turned the lights on and cast a warming spell to make it feel less foreign to him and then made his way upstairs, carefully controlling his breathing. He half suspected that avoiding coming home was only making it harder now he was back, but he still wasn’t ready to be here without his family. Making his way into his parents’ old bedroom, he paused to look around and then crouched in front of the large chest at the end of their bed. Inside, there were the baby clothes, photos, toys that Marie had carefully packed away from each child. Mason, Marlene and Mark’s first baby grows were all in here, as well as quilts she’d made, photos of her and Marcus in various states of exhaustion, the children’s St Mungo’s wristbands and their favourite toys, all lovingly kept and organised.

It took Mason a long time before he could begin to look through what was there, but eventually he started, knowing exactly what he was looking for and it didn’t take long to find it. It’d been carefully folded and wrapped up with his other baby clothes, but it was still as good as new – his first baby grow. He laughed wetly and laid it on the side, grabbing the rest of what he wanted and packing it all up carefully. In an ideal world, his mum would currently be making a fourth little outfit, but that wasn’t going to happen and the next best thing was his. She’d want that too, he knew.

Carefully closing the trunk, he stood up and smiled, wiping the dust off the top of it tenderly and stepping back.

“Thanks, Mum.”

* * *

“Honey, I’m home,” he called as he shut the door behind him, locking it quickly and dumping the takeaway on the table.

Lyra looked up from her sorting and grinned. “Hi! You okay? You were gone a while.”

“Always,” he promised, kissing her forehead and bringing over the other bag. “I made a detour, that’s all.”

“To do what?”

“Have a look,” he smiled, sitting next to her and opening the bag.

Lyra gave him a funny look but peered into the bag, pulling out the little outfit and gasping. “This is adorable!”

“Guess who wore it first, too,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against hers.

Lyra blinked at him. “No _way_ were you ever this tiny.”

“I was,” he chuckled “This was mine. I went by the house, I knew Mum kept it all and it felt right somehow. I’ve got some other things too, but I wanted this one in particular.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Lyra smiled, “Did she make it?”

“She did,” Mason said, brushing his finger over the design gently. “And if you don’t want to use it, I-“

“I do want to,” she promised, shifting to lean her head on his shoulder. “Absolutely. Baby will love it. Thank you, Mason.”

He kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair down with a fierce tenderness, unable to speak through the lump in his throat.

“I know, sweetheart,” she whispered, “I know.”

* * *

“I think Sirius has been in the house.”

“This house or your house?” she frowned, slowly setting her plate down on top of his already empty one.

“Mine. I went just to check on everything but Marlene’s room is way cleaner than the rest of the place and I _think_ the bedding is different. I don’t know if he’s just been cleaning it, or if he’s been staying there, but it would explain why he’s not been in when we’ve called at his place.”

Lyra’ forehead burrowed in confusion. “Last I spoke to him he didn’t want to go back, why lie?”

“He might not be staying there, Ly, don’t get ahead of yourself and stress yourself out,” he said hastily, “It could just be he doesn’t want it to get dusty, I can’t say I blame him, I understand the feeling.”

She chewed her lip and put her knife and fork down. “I don’t know, Mase, he’s… not been himself since. Not that _that’s_ surprising, I completely get that, I just… I don’t know how to talk to him anymore. He’s grieving, sure, but something has changed too.”

“Something has in all of us,” Mason pointed out.

“Not like that,” she whispered, “Please tell me you see it too. He’s _angry_, and while I know he defaults to anger for most big things, this feels… bitter, I don’t know.”

Mason sighed because he did see it and he agreed with her. Now they knew for sure someone was leaking information to Voldemort, it made the change in Sirius seem more and more suspicious. But then again, he reflected, everyone behaved suspiciously now. Remus would vanish every month with no explanation for where he was except for being ‘ill’, Peter jumped every time you walked into a room he was in, Sirius snapped if you so much as mentioned the mole, and the rest of the Order were shifty and on edge too – the bond that had held them all together was fraying.

“Maybe… maybe we should change the wards,” Lyra admitted quietly. She felt awful for suggesting it, she felt cowardly, but if there was someone betraying them – she knew it couldn’t be Mason, she just knew – then they needed more security, especially with her effectively out of action.

Currently, apart from themselves, the only four people who could get through the door were Sirius, Remus, Peter and Moody. She was starting to think that was four people too many.  
“Sirius won’t like it, and I doubt Remus will either,” Mason warned, knowing that their feud was only growing, and both of them took any suspicion against them to heart.

“I know,” Lyra groaned, rubbing her temples, “But maybe we have to do it? It’s not like we can do a James and Lily and just vanish, we’re still needed and we’re not being targeted like that, but I also don’t like the idea of someone just being able to get in. Even if it’s not them, what if they were taken? Side-long apparation is possible.”

Mason hated that she was right. “I know,” he mumbled, “And we can always use the baby card to try and smooth things over, but I’m sure they still won’t like it.”

“_I_ don’t like it either,” she sighed, “But I think it’d be for the best.”

Mason nodded his agreement. “We can do it tonight, if you want. My half of the wards won’t take long to change.”

“Nor will mine, and we can write and let them know,” Lyra whispered. “Just us in the house.”

“Just us,” he promised, sending the plates through to the sink and leaning over to take her hand.

She’d actually beaten him to the suggestion: now the news about the pregnancy was out and she was visibly showing, he felt far more exposed. It might be paranoid, but Mason wouldn’t take any chances – not when they didn’t know for sure why the Potters specifically had been targeted and especially not with Avery still out there too. He’d never tell Lyra, but when he’d gone back to sweep her flat for the last time before it was sold, there had been two more notes from the Death Eater waiting on the table. He’d burned them immediately and never mentioned them, but the thought of him finding out that Lyra was pregnant filled him with a kind of fear that woke him up at night with a scream stuck in his throat. He was all for tightening the wards and laying low – all thoughts of heroism were secondary now.

* * *

_13th October 1981_

A pounding on the door made Mason jump and he grabbed his wand from the coffee table before approaching, knowing full well that Lyra’s wand was also trained on their front door from her spot on the sofa, one hand on her belly.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Remus!” Remus snapped from outside. “Why did your wards just spit me out in the middle of the park rather than on your doorstep? It’s tipping it down, I’m soaked!”

Mason looked back at Lyra and frowned: they’d send an owl to Remus’ flat explaining the situation but he evidently hadn’t received it.

“Extra security, mate, we wanted it all in place before the baby came,” Mason called back.

“Can Sirius get in?” Remus accused, predictably.

“No,” Lyra said firmly, getting up and joining Mason at the door, “No one can, don’t be an arsehole, this isn’t a favouritism thing.”

Silence from the other side, before she heard Remus’ head whacking against the door softly.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “That was a dick move. Can… Can I at least come in?”

“When did you first find out about the baby?” Lyra asked.

“We were at my flat and you spilled tea on yourself,” Remus answered and Lyra nodded at Mason to open the door. She stepped back to let Remus in, her wand still raised just in case, tucking behind Mason.

Remus held his hands up as he slipped in, the rain plastering his hair to his forehead. He looked older than the last time she’d seen him, and she couldn’t help but notice the thin scar running across his cheek that hadn’t been there before.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped. It’s just been… a long week.”

“Where have you been?” Mason asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing an arm.

“I can’t say, Order stuff,” Remus said apologetically. “I wish I could explain, but I can’t.”

Lyra sighed and turned away to find him a towel but Mason beat her to it and spelled Remus dry before he dripped all over the carpet.

“I get it, before you hate me,” Remus added, “The security. I do get it.” He glanced over at Lyra and her growing belly and smiled. “How are you doing?”

“My feet hurt constantly, but we’re doing good,” she said with a little smile. “Lily’s giving me tips.”

Remus ran a hand through his now dry hair. “Good. I… I just wanted to pop in, now I’m back from the mission, just to see how you were getting on.”

“Have you heard from Sirius?” Lyra asked, biting her lip.

“You think Sirius talks to me these days?” Remus said dryly, shaking his head. “I’ve not, I’m sorry.”

She sighed and nodded. “I’ll write to him again.”

Mason kissed the top of her head as he went past. “Remus, are you staying for a drink?”

“No, no, sorry, I ought to get back and speak to Dumbledore and get this info to him. I’m sorry I burst in like that,” he smiled tightly, “And I hope your new wards hold up.”

“I do too,” Mason said, his mouth a thin line as he turned to Lyra, who had lowered her wand but still gripped it tightly. He didn’t blame her.

Remus nodded firmly, seemingly turning something over in his head. He opened his mouth a few times to speak, but nothing came out.

Mason and Lyra stayed very still.

“I ought to get back,” Remus repeated, his expression softening slightly as he glanced at Lyra’s hand resting lightly on her stomach. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Take care, Remus,” Lyra whispered, and it sounded far more like a plea than she’d intended.

“You too,” he muttered, before he turned and left, cutting off Mason’s attempt to decipher the unreadable expression on the man’s face.


	23. 31st October 1981

_31st October 1981_

“Muggle movies are so predictable, why do they always have one girl go off by herself in the haunted house?” Lyra scoffed, gesturing at the TV as she leaned back against Mason’s chest, allowing him to gently stroke the curve of her stomach. Normally it tickled too much to let him do it but now the baby was kicking she didn’t have the heart to stop him. He’d been so upset when she could feel them and he couldn’t, but now they were stronger and he’d felt them too he spent most of his time seeing what the baby was up to.

“Because it’s fun!” Mason protested, “You’re way too cynical for horror movies.”

“I just think you deserve to die if you're dumb enough to do half the things they’ve done,” she sniffed, grabbing some more popcorn and ignoring his laughter.

“Sometimes I think you were sorted into the wrong house and then you say shit like that and it reminds me that no, Slytherin works,” Mason teased and she whacked his arm lightly.

“Rude.”

“But true,” he countered, stealing some of her popcorn despite her protests. “It’s a _movie_, it’s made up, of course they’re going to do some dumb things or the story wouldn’t work!”

“Even so,” she huffed, “At least make it believable, I’m not even scared of-“

She let out a small scream as someone started pounding on the door and clapped her hand over her mouth in panic even as Mason twisted away from her and grabbed his wand.

“LET ME IN!” Sirius screamed from their porch and they could half see his blurry face through the glass in the door. “PLEASE! LYRA!”

She got up shakily, her own wand in her hand tightly now as she stood behind Mason. “Do we let him in?”

“THEY’RE DEAD, THEY’RE DEAD, WE WERE BETRAYED, LET ME IN NOW! I NEED YOU!”

“Who’s dead?” Mason croaked, but they both knew. There was no one else Sirius would be referring to.

Lyra covered her mouth again as she stared between Mason and the door. “Do we let him in?” Sirius’ begging continued in the background.

Mason’s expression flickered and then hardened as he looked back at her. “I think I could kill him before he hurt us, if it came to that. Do you want to let him in?”

She nodded slowly and Mason locked eyes with her before he unlocked their door and opened it.

Sirius practically fell into the flat, slamming the door shut behind him before turning on them.

“Are you both okay?” he panted, his eyes wild, nostrils flared like a cornered animal. His hair was the messiest Lyra had ever seen and there was something about his behaviour that had the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Mason stepped quickly between them, keeping Sirius’ focus on him and not her. He doubted Sirius was here to hurt them, but he wasn’t risking it. Not when everything was crashing down around them.

“We’re both okay. You have thirty seconds to explain before I throw you back out again,” he said, his voice hard and unflinching.

“Peter, Pettigrew did it, I thought it was Remus, or someone else, but it was Pettigrew,” Sirius hissed, eyes darting around like they might have the man hidden somewhere in their living room. “I was Secret Keeper for James and Lily, it was me, but we thought it was too obvious, of course I’d do that for them, so we switched to Pettigrew, I convinced them that he was safest, that we could trust him-“ Sirius’ voice broke and his legs gave way as he sank to the floor. “He betrayed us, he must’ve switched sides. He was the one who told them Dorcas would be there, who told them you’d changed your wards, he killed Marlene, he… he told them where James and Lily were, he led them right to Harry and now – now they’re dead.”

“Is Harry…” Lyra whispered, lowering herself to the floor next to Sirius much to Mason’s unhappiness.

“Harry survived,” Sirius breathed, “I don’t know how, I… I went there, I felt it somehow, the house is... it was blown apart, something went _wrong_, Harry was there crying, James and Lily were – just gone, just lying there, it was a killing curse, it had to be,” Sirius said, somehow still talking and even he wasn’t sure how he was still functioning as the last of his world came crashing down.

“I have to find him.”

“Who? Harry?” Mason frowned, crouching down too, one hand on Lyra’s back as a warning to Sirius just in case. He was taking no chances now, this wasn’t a time for carelessness.

“Pettigrew,” Sirius snarled, lifting his burning eyes to Mason’s. He shivered at the depth of hatred in them.

“Sirius, don’t,” Lyra whispered, reaching out for her brother. Sirius moved away. “You can’t just go after him! He’ll be with Voldemort, he’ll be protected, they’ll know that you know, you can’t – it’d be a suicide mission!”

“I’m going to kill him,” Sirius said firmly, his voice eerily calm as he turned to look at her. “I’m going to end him and end this war. If Voldemort doesn’t have his information then he can’t get to us anymore. We can figure the rest out afterwards.”

“Please don’t,” she sobbed, wrapping her arms around herself and watching helplessly from the floor, as Sirius stood, face hard. “Please, Sirius, stay here, find Harry, stay here with us, don’t do this.”

“Sirius, listen,” Mason added, seeing how distressed she was and knowing this couldn’t be helping anything. “She’s right, you’ll only get yourself killed.”

“If I take him with me then that’s enough,” he snapped, “You can’t stop me. You shouldn’t _want_ to – this is for your family too. For Lene.”

“I’d rather you alive and I know she would too,” Mason snapped, “You’d rather run off and find a murderer than stay here and help? You have a godson _that you should be going back for_, you’re going to have a niece or nephew, you have responsibilities, you _idiot_ No one else needs to die, no more, Sirius.”

Sirius stepped backwards defiantly and Lyra sobbed louder, stepping forwards to close the gap.

“Sirius, please stay,” she croaked, “Don’t do it, I can’t lose you too.”

“Tell them who did it, tell them it was Pettigrew and send someone after me. Not that I’ll need back up. You really think he can beat me in a duel? He can barely tie his own shoelaces,” he sneered.

“I think you’re insane, stop this, Sirius,” Mason snapped, trying to get Lyra to sit down on the sofa again.

“No,” he snapped, “Lock your doors or go to headquarters or the Ministry, I don’t care, but you’re not stopping me. Keep yourselves safe.”

“If you’re going then at least let me go with you, you don’t have the training, Sirius, don’t do this alone!”

“He was my best friend,” Sirius screamed, the air exploding with his rage, “He sold us out, he sold ME out, HE SOLD JAMES OUT, JAMES WHO TRUSTED HIM WITH HIS LIFE. WITH LILY’S LIFE, HARRY’S LIFE! _I_ will find him, and _I_ will kill him. And you’re _not going to stop me_.”

Mason nearly disarmed him then and there – he would not see Lyra reduced to wreck after losing someone else, she couldn’t go through it again – but he was too late. By the time he’d raised his wand and fired, Sirius had already yanked the door open and apparated, leaving the door swinging on its hinges, the silence of the shattered Autumn night seeping into the flat.

Terrified that someone had been following Sirius, Mason slammed the door shut, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned back to Lyra. Sirius was gone, there was nothing he could do to stop him now – his priority was her.

“We need to find Moody,” she cried, “We need to tell Alastor, he needs to know, so they can help Sirius and find Harry and stop Peter. We – we need to find Remus and tell him too, we have to _do something_!”

Mason crouched in front of her and gripped her hands tightly. “We’ll do all of that, I promise,” he said, trying to stop his voice from shaking, “We’ll do it, but I need you to tell me honestly, not brush over it because you want to help – tell me honestly how you are.”

She took a shaky breath and nodded, trying to stop her crying for a moment. “I’m okay. Dizzy, my back hurts, I feel exhausted, but only a little more than usual. I’m just in shock, I promise. I’m okay,” she croaked, even though her eyes were fixed over his shoulder at the door her brother had just left through.

Mason sighed but he knew she wouldn’t lie so he nodded and kissed her firmly. “Okay, we’ll Floo to the Ministry and let them know. I don’t suppose I can convince you to stay behind?”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes closed and trying not to think about whatever Sirius had found at that house. “Not now, not yet.”

He nodded and kissed her again. “I understand that. I’ll get your coat, we can go now.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, burying her face in her hands as she felt him move away.

* * *

The Auror Department was in chaos. Mason had run ahead once they were in the building to let Moody know what was going on but reports were coming in from Aurors all over that their targets were disappearing, suspected and known Death Eaters were fleeing, an attack that had evidently been a distraction technique to give the Dark Lord time to strike at the Potters had been abandoned half way through with no Auror casualties at all and several Death Eaters had already come forwards with names trying to save their skin. And yet no one could locate Voldemort.

By the time Lyra and Mason, who had run back to help her, made it to their office, it was becoming clear that something had gone very very wrong for Voldemort in Godric’s Hollow. Moody had contacted Remus who had found the house and collected the screaming and bleeding but otherwise unharmed Harry from the rubble and they were now laying low. Mason wished they’d come to the Ministry so Remus didn’t have to be alone in the wake of the news, but he understood – Voldemort had come for Harry, there was no reason to suggest that he was dead, and Harry needed to be hidden until they understood the situation.

Moody and Mason had forced Lyra to sit down, but she’d dragged her chair into the main room so that she could still keep up with what was going on and Mason wasn’t about to fight with her when she was already looking pale.

“Moody, what’s happening?” Mason demanded, pushing through the Aurors that had gathered. Moody had called everyone in, half expecting a surprise attack, worrying that all of this so far had been the real distraction before the Death Eaters attempted to take the Ministry, but so far there had been nothing and everyone was restless.

“Come here and see for yourself,” Alastor called from the doorway of his office, leaning heavily on his cane, the injury seemingly painful tonight.

Mason glanced back and checked on Lyra, who caught his gaze and pulled herself up to follow. He waited for her to catch up, and then they headed in.

“Lucius Malfoy is here to see us,” Moody said gruffly, his eye not moving from the blonde man in his dark robes. There was no mask to go with them, but it was quite clear where Malfoy had been last.

Lyra stiffened next to him, but her eyes darted past the man to the even blonder lady behind him, cradling a little boy in her arms.

“Cissy?” she whispered.

Narcissa Malfoy offered her a wan smile but stayed silent.

“Lucius had told us that he was under an Imperius Curse. That he was never willingly part of Voldemort’s inner circle and that, in fact, he has reason to believe the cunt is dead,” Moody said and when she finally dragged her eyes away from Narcissa, Lyra noticed that Moody’s wand too was trained on her cousin in law. “Go on, Malfoy, tell Mason what you told me.”

Lucius licked his lips and took a deep breath. “My… my Dark Mark. It has always burned since the day I took- I was forced to take it,” he said, a commanding aura to his tone despite his situation. “But now? Nothing. Not for hours. It’s not inactive, like it is when the Dark-Voldemort,” he said, wincing at the use of the name, unfamiliar on his lips, “Like it is when _Voldemort_ is busy elsewhere. It’s just ink, no magic behind it, or barely any. I’ve never seen it this way.”

“A Muggle in Godric’s Hollow reported seeing a large flash of green light coming from the Potter’s home, but the Killing Curse doesn’t produce anything on the scale that they described. Any ideas?” Moody continued, looking at Lyra.

She felt his gaze and turned her red rimmed eyes to him. “A backfiring curse produces a flash of light the same colour as the intended spell but much larger,” she said, her voice listless, reciting the answer from memory.

Moody smiled. “Confirming my suspicions. Voldemort tried to kill little Harry Potter, but he failed.”

Narcissa flinched and held her baby closer. Lyra vaguely remembered that he was called Draco. “My husband and I,” she said, her voice quiet but steady, “We believe this too. He failed and the curse killed him, or Lucius would surely feel his presence still. Voldemort is gone. And we’re happy to cooperate with the Ministry, if they understand he did not choose this life. If they grant us clemency,” she added, her voice only wobbling at the end.

Mason eyed the wandless Lucius carefully. He highly doubted that the man had been forced into this life, he highly doubted there had been torture or that he’d resisted as much as he could have. But they would need an informant if what Moody suggested was true. If the Death Eaters could be rounded up. If the war could be ended.

“Cissy,” Lyra said, stepping out fully from behind Mason for the first time. Her cousin’s eyes dropped down, noticing the curve of her stomach, her eyes widening. “Have… have you seen Regulus?”

Narcissa’s expression softened and she reached up automatically to smooth her son’s white hair. “No, Lyra, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen him in months.”

Lyra shuddered but nodded and Mason pulled her closer knowing she had to be exhausted.

Moody tugged them back outside, locking his office door and guiding her back over to her chair so she could sit down.

“Tell me again what Sirius said to you both,” Moody demanded.

“Alastor, this can wait, she’s barely standing,” Mason snapped, “She’s in shock, questioning her won’t help anything.”

“Then you answer – we don’t have time, I’m sorry,” Moody snapped back.

Mason clenched his jaw. “He said that he had been the Secret Keeper for James and Lily but they worried that it was too obvious, so he told them to switch to Peter. Logically, it’s sound. Peter was less obvious than Sirius, it would be an extra layer of protection. No matter how much they tortured Sirius if they got him, he couldn’t reveal the information because he was no longer the Keeper of it. Peter would then have time to get away. Except it would seem that the bastard caved. From what Sirius said, Peter must’ve betrayed us in May or June. Before… before Dorcas and the others.”

Lyra’s grip on Mason’s hand tightened painfully and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“And then they switched after that?” Moody clarified.

“I don’t know, Alastor,” Mason said, shaking his head, “I don’t know. But the switch happened and Peter betrayed the Potters. And now he’s on the run and Sirius has gone after him.”

“No one will believe that,” Lyra whispered fearfully. “No one is going to believe that. My brother, House Black, suspicious behaviour, his girlfriend dead and him going ‘mad’ - over little Peter Pettigrew who lost a duel to a first year? Who do you think they’ll believe is a Death Eater?”

Moody privately agreed with her. “Well we’ve got evidence to suggest otherwise now, don’t we? We’ve sent some Aurors after Sirius and Pettigrew, but I’m afraid I don’t know if they’re in my pocket or Crouch’s.”

Mason looked grim. “And now we wait?”

“And now we wait,” Moody nodded.

* * *

Hours passed with no news. Mason tried to get Lyra to lie down on the chairs in their office or go home to rest but she refused and she was too anxious to sleep anyway, her mind whirring constantly. He only calmed down once a Healer came over to check on her and confirmed that everything was as alright as they could expect, she was just run down and worrying. There was nothing they could do about that, so they just had to wait.

The clock seemed to move so slowly as it crept through the night to morning with still no news on Sirius or Pettigrew. Narcissa, not being a Death Eater herself, had been allowed out of the office with Lucius remaining locked in, and had joined Lyra in her silent vigil from her chair in the corner, still rocking Draco, who seemed to be sleeping soundly through it all.

“When are you due?” she asked gently. Lyra looked up, surprised that her cousin was bothering to talk to her. She’d been disowned after all, and Narcissa was hardly who’d she’d expected to break tradition, especially after Andromeda was disowned too. Maybe she was just exhausted and wanted a familiar face. Lyra couldn't blame her for that, she was much the same.

“Late January,” Lyra whispered, her hand fluttering on her stomach as she looked around automatically for Mason.

“How lovely,” Narcissa said, smiling sincerely. And I assume you’re with… what’s his name, Mason?”

Lyra laughed nervously. “I am. But I wasn’t disowned for that.”

“No, you left to be an Auror, didn’t you?” Narcissa asked. “Your mother didn’t tell us but I pieced it together. I saw you in a photograph in the Prophet, although the photo was actually of Mason, you just happened to be in it.”

Lyra smiled slightly. “Yes, we were partners.”

“And the rest, as they say, is history,” Narcissa teased in the lilting voice Lyra remembered from her childhood. Narcissa had always been the one to head Bellatrix off before she got too vindictive.

“It is.”

Narcissa reached out and gripped her hand quickly. “I shouldn’t stay long. Despite our situation our family will still want us to maintain appearances and I shouldn’t be seen with you. But I wanted to let you know that I’m glad you’re happy. I wish you all the best and… I hope Sirius makes it home.”

Lyra blinked at her in surprise, her eyes damp. “Thank you. You too, I hope everything works out.”

“Thank you,” she smiled and stood up again, Draco protesting at the movement so she shushed him gently. “I should find Lucius again. It was lovely to see you. I hope motherhood makes you as happy as it has me.”

“I hope so too.”

Lyra let her gaze lock with Narcissa’s before she looked down at Draco and waggled her fingers at the little boy who buried his face against Narcissa’s shoulders. Narcissa laughed lightly, gazing at her son like he was her entire world, and glided away back towards Moody’s office to rejoin her husband.

Lyra leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to rest even if she couldn’t sleep. It lasted all of five minutes and then she took a deep breath and pulled herself up, heading back towards Moody to see if he knew where Mason was.

“Listen, Crouch, listen to me, damn it,” Moody snapped, jabbing his cane at the other man’s chest firmly, eye narrowing. “Did you hear nothing we just said? The boy is innocent, it’s Pettigrew you’re after.”

“I highly doubt that, Alastor, and you’ll pass the orders on to your Aurors or I’ll do it myself,” Bartemius said coldly as he straightened his tie and smoothed down his moustache.

“Excuse me, sir?” Lyra said, approaching them nervously. “Is this about my brother?”

“The Death Eater? Yes it is,” Crouch snapped and Moody shot Lyra a warning look as she glared. “He needs to be apprehended, I don’t suppose you have any idea where he might’ve gone, Black?”

“That’s Auror Black, to you,” Mason snapped back, appearing from around the corner, Kingsley just behind him having clearly alerted Mason to the situation.

“Of course,” Crouch simpered but it was obvious he didn’t care.

Mason wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tried to lead her away but she tugged him back.

“I don’t know what Auror Moody has said to you already, sir, but my brother is currently trying to hunt down the traitor Peter Pettigrew. We know Peter sold out the Potters as well as others.”  
“You _know_? Or your brother told you? You should stay in your lane, my dear.”

“This _is_ my lane!” she snapped, “I’m an Auror. This is my job too.”

“Of course it is,” he said and she grimaced at the mocking tone of his voice. “Moody, frankly, I don’t have time. We need to catch Black. There was a sighting of him in the south, a small Muggle village, the Muggle police reported someone breaking and entering and we assume he’s hunting for Pettigrew.”

“You _saw_ him?” Lyra gaped, “He’s been spotted? Can we get someone there to help him?”

“Auror Black need I remind you that your /brother/ is now a wanted Death Eater, responsible for the attack on the Potters and their defenceless son?” Crouch said, raising his voice.

“He is NOT!”

“AUROR BLACK, do not make me remove you from Ministry premises!”

Mason stepped forwards furiously but Moody whacked him with his cane, cutting him off and pushing them both backwards.

“Barty, you have been a thorn in my goddamn side this entire goddamn war, would you listen to me for fucking once?” Moody snarled. “Sirius Black is not a traitor. Pettigrew is who we should be focussing on.”

Crouch barely listened to him – he was still glaring past the Head Auror at Mason and Lyra behind him, and they were glaring back.

“We’ve had evidence to suggest otherwise.”

“You’ve had _no_ evidence!” Lyra shouted, tears sliding down her face. She’d feared this – this was why she’d begged Sirius to stay – she’d feared that their family name would condemn him, even when Sirius had worked so hard to distance himself from it his entire life.

“McKinnon, I’m going to have to ask you to remove your partner, it seems she’s becoming hysterical, I’ve heard pregnancy can do that,” Crouch sniped, adjusting his robes and sniffing.

Lyra’s eyes blazed and she opened her mouth to say something that would no doubt get her fired but Mason wrapped his arms around her hastily, mostly to stop her lunging forwards and injuring herself.

“As we know, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’d be careful, Alastor – two Death Eater brothers, that family has bad blood.”

At that, Mason stopped trying to keep her still and turned himself, punching Bartemius Crouch square on the jaw, his eyes burning. He spat at him furiously as he flexed his fingers out, not even caring about the consequences and the pain juddering up his arm at the impact.

Moody didn’t bother saying anything, he just rolled his eyes and stepped backwards.

“Mason, you really shouldn’t have done that,” Lyra said faintly, grabbing his hand to make sure it wasn’t damaged.

“No, but it was fucking worth it, the prick,” he snapped, still glaring at Crouch who was practically shooting hexes from his eyes as he glared back at the two of them.

“I think you’ll regret that, boy,” he snapped once he’d checked his mouth for any serious damage.

“Maybe later, but not for a while,” he retorted, wrapping his arms around Lyra. “Now fuck off. Get out of my sight, or I’ll do that again.”

Crouch sniffed but his jaw was already bruising and his head was ringing so he decided on a tactical retreat. He wouldn’t lose, he never lost, but right now he had more important things to do than converse with Moody’s rebellious Aurors. He turned on his heel sharply and stormed out, leaving everyone stunned in the wake of the fight.

“He’ll take it out on Sirius,” Lyra whispered."Mason..."

Mason groaned, “I know, I’m sorry, I just… I couldn’t let him say that and get away with it.”

“I’m grateful, I just wish it didn’t come at his expense,” she mumbled, clenching her shaking hands desperately.

He nodded and smoothed her hair gently, communicating with Moody over her head as she held his shirt tightly.

“I’ll speak to the Minister herself if I can,” Moody promised, “Bagnold is reasonable, she’ll listen.”

“Thank you,” Mason mumbled. “Ly, come on, you should rest again.”

“I can’t sleep, I’ve tried,” she protested.

“Because you’re been sat on a shitty wooden chair for hours,” he smiled slightly, “We should head home, I know I need to try and steal a few hours sleep at least if we’re going to be here all day tomorrow too.”

She knew she _needed_ sleep – her whole body ached for it – so she reluctantly nodded. “Someone should be awake so we can get news,” she said, gripping his arm, “We need to know right away.”

“I’ll let Moody know that his owl needs to peck at me until I wake up,” he promised, kissing her forehead and helping her out of the department. “Head for the fireplaces and I’ll find you once I’ve told him. I’ll see you soon.”

She didn’t let go of his shirt until she’d made him look at him. “I love you,” she said fiercely. “if anything-“

“It won’t,” he said, not even letting her voice the fear. “Nothing will happen to me.”

“You promise?” she said shakily.

It was a promise that he couldn’t keep, not after the last twenty-four hours. He said it anyway, because what else did he have to give?

“I promise.”


	24. November 1981

_2nd November 1981_

Lyra slept fitfully, unable to take a dreamless sleep potion because of the baby. Mason had slept for a few hours and then paced the bedroom waiting for news. There was none. And then, all of a sudden, there was far too much.

The owl came in the early hours of the morning, Lyra waking groggily after sleeping all of the previous day and all night, her body shattered.

Hearing the animal noises, she pulled herself out of bed and went to find Mason where he was bent over the table, his shoulders shaking, the letter clutched tightly in one hand.

“What is it?” she asked fearfully, her mind jumping to Sirius, Remus, Harry, trying to work out what news she could handle and what she couldn’t. “Who is it?”

Mason shook his head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Who is it?” she pleaded, snatching the letter from his hands and scanning Moody’s familiar handwriting. “Oh. Oh Merlin, no,” she whimpered, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes shut.

Still no news on Sirius, Remus still laying low with Harry. But with James and Lily gone, the Death Eaters had lashed out at the other family the prophecy could’ve spoken of. Frank and Alice Longbottom were currently in a life-threatening condition in St Mungo’s. Baby Neville had, by some blessing, been hidden during the attack and was with his grandmother. The Healers didn’t even know if the couple would wake up. Lyra sank onto a chair and buried her head in her hands. She knew Frank and Alice: Dorcas had been partnered with Frank until the end, he’d always said hello, always offered to do the coffee run, always wished them a good evening, a good weekend. Alice had been the first to hug her when she’d come into work following Dorcas’ death and hadn’t even minded when Lyra soaked her blouse with tears. Alice, who had always grinned at them conspiratorially from across the Order meetings, bouncing the chubby Neville in her arms.

Another family torn apart. Another child as good as orphaned. Another hole in her heart.

She wrapped her arms around her own stomach and cried weakly, unable to comfort Mason or stop herself sobbing. She felt like she hadn’t stopped crying for months.

Why? Why had they done it? Their leader was dead, why had they bothered? They could’ve fled, or pleaded innocence like Malfoy but instead they’d broken into a home and tormented more people who didn’t deserve it. It was supposed to be over, it was supposed to be done, there had been celebrations since that night and yet the war wasn’t finished, not for the Death Eaters and not for them.

Lyra dropped the letter weakly and went back to bed, sick to her stomach and sick of the world.

* * *

_11th November 1981_

Remus had thought it ironic that James and Lily’s funeral was on the Muggle day of remembrance. There had been a service in the graveyard earlier, in front of the large cenotaph at the centre, followed by the Potter’s ceremony, visible only to the witches and wizards who had attended. He knew Lily would’ve found it morbidly funny, but he just found it another weight on his shoulders as he stood on the damp earth in front of the marble headstone with the two names engraved so carefully.

“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death,” Remus read quietly, shifting Harry’s weight in his arms. Crouching down on the ground, he set the one year old on his feet, letting him lean against the stone, his little fingers tracing the words his parents had chosen.

Apparently James and Lily had feared this outcome, and the quotation had been written in the small notebook in the desk drawer that he’d found when he’d come back to the house the night after their deaths. They’d written more, too, detailing what they wanted their remaining friends to do with the house, their possessions and, of course, with Harry.

_Keep him with you, please. Let him grow up knowing love and happiness and warmth. Let him know who we were, what we did, what we dreamed for him. Tell him how much we love him – how much we always will love him._

Remus let the tears run down his cheeks silently as he watched the one year old, oblivious to what it was he was leaning on, gurgle happily, his face only marked by the jagged, healing scar on his forehead. The Boy Who Lived.

Remus scooped him up again and held him close, warming up Harry’s hands and tucking them back into his tiny knitted gloves as he stepped back, swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath.

“We’ll come back again soon,” he whispered, not to Harry but to the grave. “I’ll bring him again soon.”

And then he stood and cried for a long time, alone in the graveyard with all that was left of James and Lily Potter held tightly in his arms.

* * *

_14th November 1981_

Mason apparated back into the flat from the Ministry and immediately headed into the bedroom, running a hand through his hair as he lowered himself onto the bed, brushing Lyra’s cheek softly and feeling her forehead.

She was still warm but her temperature had cooled, the flush gone from her usually pale cheeks. Her eyes were closed and Mason was relieved that she was sleeping so he pulled the duvet further up and kissed her forehead, moving around to the side of the bed to check the potions had all been taken.

After the news about the Longbottoms she’d gone to bed heartsick and hadn’t gotten out of bed since. Initially he’d thought it was just grief catching with her but when she’d woken, she hadn’t been coherent and her temperature had been worryingly high and he’d forced a Healer to see to her at once. It hadn’t been life threatening, for her or the baby, but it had had the chance to turn much nastier and he’d still been reluctant to leave the flat to even get news from the Ministry.

Luckily, it seemed the potions were starting to kick in. She wasn’t stirring in her sleep any more and he let out a slow breath of relief, slowly lying back on the pillows himself and allowing his eyes to slide shut.

Between helping Moody organise the Auror Department, helping Remus keep Harry at his place and not with his Muggle relatives and checking on Lyra as often as he could, he’d barely slept. Neither of them had been at James and Lily’s funeral which he knew weighed as heavily on Lyra’s mind as it did his – the thought of Remus there alone made his chest ache – but there had been no chance of her making it, and he wouldn’t leave her.

He’d been gone just for a few hours while she’d slept to try and track down Sirius himself. It wasn’t an Auror mission, it wasn’t an Order mission, it was sheer desperation: there had been a few more sightings of both Sirius and Pettigrew in various parts of the country, Sirius always appearing where Peter had been the day before and to all the world it looked like a vicious Death Eater tracking down the next victim in an act of revenge for his master. Moody had failed to convinced the Minister for Magic of Sirius’ innocence, and Crouch was pursuing him with a mindless hatred only heightened by the trial of his own son just days ago for the involvement in the torture of the Longbottoms.

They were supposed to be safe and happy. Celebrating, even. But with Lyra in and out of consciousness, Sirius missing and hunted and Remus grieving, Mason was finding it hard to even believe they’d succeeded. He thought back to something his father had said about the Muggle war, one of their ‘World’ wars: he’d called it a pyrrhic victory, a victory that inflicted such a devastating toll on the survivors that you couldn’t really call it a victory. He’d not understood then, back when everything had been black and white. You won or you lost, there were good guys and bad guys. He was a good guy, so he would win. Now he understood as she stroked Lyra’s limp hair and tried to shut his mind off so he could steal some rest. He might be a good guy, but he didn’t feel like he’d won.

* * *

The hoot of the owl woke him several hours later and he stirred, sitting up and rubbing his eyes as he reached out blindly for the bird, snatching the letter from its leg and reading it as he heard Lyra wake next to him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his face crumbling as he finished the note from Moody and turned to look at Lyra, who was pulling herself upright, her face tight with worry.

“What is it?”

He paused. “They’ve arrested Sirius.”

“What?” she choked.

“Stay still,” he begged, moving back over to her but crumpling the parchment in his hand tightly. The information on it wasn’t information he wanted her to receive like this, he’d tell her himself even if it tore him apart.

“He… he killed Peter,” he continued, cupping her cheek gently, knowing that this was going to devastate her even more than she already was and hating himself for it. He didn’t know if either of them were strong enough for this. “He got him. But something went wrong, there was an explosion, twelve Muggles are dead too, which only confirmed what Crouch believed already. He’s been arrested for all thirteen murders.”

Lyra whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head desperately. “No.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so so sorry,” he whispered, his own voice shaking. “I’ll go now, I’ll do what I can for him, he has to have a trial still, we can get this sorted."

She cried weakly, her body wracked with heartbreak as she clung to him. “Go, please,” she begged, “Do it, do whatever you have to.”

Mason watched her, his own face twisted with pain. He couldn’t leave her like this but there was no one else who could help Sirius and no one else to sit with her.

“_Mason_, help him!”

He nodded and kissed her firmly, then kissed her again, wiping her eyes as best he could but she was still crying, already mourning the outcome they both knew was waiting. “I’ll go.”

She pulled her knees up to her chest as much as she could and buried her face in her lap.

Watching helplessly, Mason sent the owl back to Moody and left, her desperate sobs following him out of the door and all the way to the Ministry.

* * *

Moody met him in the hall with a grim expression. “It’s too late, boy. Too fucking late.”

“What do you mean?” Mason gaped, grabbing Moody by the shoulders. “It’s been an hour! He needs a trial! They can’t do that in an hour no matter how much evidence they have. There’s Veritaserum, and didn’t Dumbledore set up this whole Secret Keeper thing? Surely he can speak on Sirius’ behalf-“

“There was no trial. There won’t be a trial. He’s been sentenced already,” Moody said quietly. “Crouch didn’t give us a chance. The boy is being collected and sent to Azkaban any minute.”

“I don’t understand,” Mason said blankly, shaking his head.

“And you think I do? People want to celebrate, people don’t want to see any suspected Death Eater walk away, no matter how little evidence there is, people want to have their revenge,” Moody snarled, his furious grip on his cane turning his knuckles white.

“This is BULLSHIT!” Mason screamed, turning away wildly. “He has to have a fucking _trial_!”

“And I’ve told the Minister that, she won’t listen to me,” Alastor snapped. “I’ve done what I can, and there’s nothing to be done. Life in Azkaban. The sentence has already been passed.”

“No way, no fucking way, I cannot go back and tell her that, Alastor, it’ll kill her, it’ll kill me to tell her,” Mason croaked, turning back to his mentor. “Where is he? _Where is he_? Crouch or Sirius either, I’ll kill Crouch and – I don’t know – I’ll think of something for Sirius.”

“He’s on the bottom level, the Department of Mysteries cells, but the place will be swarming with Dementors any minute,” Moody said softly. “It’s too late.”

“No,” Mason said, his voice hoarse, “No, no, it’s not.”

“I’m sorry, son.”

Mason yanked on his hair and looked around desperately like the answer might somehow be written on the walls. “I can’t go back and tell her, I can’t, I left her crying like she’s already given up, she won’t… she won’t manage if she loses Sirius too, Alastor, I… I need to see Sirius.”

Moody leaned heavily on his cane, watching Mason. “You can go and try, if you promise me you leave the moment they arrive. I won’t be able to help you if you get yourself arrested too, do you hear me? You’re in no state to fight of swarms of Dementors, McKinnon. Crouch has gone mad and there’s no stopping him,” he said, his own voice hoarse like he’d been shouting just as loudly as Mason had been. Mason had never seen the Auror cry but the man's eyes were red now. They were all at breaking point.

Mason stared at Moody and then nodded, already headed for the lift, not wasting a second of his time.

Punching the button for the lowest level, he adjusted his wand in his grip and took a deep breath as the lift slowly descended to the Department of Mysteries. He stepped out into the dark walled corridor and, as if sensing the evil magic of the Dementors, he slowed his step and crept towards the end of the hallway. He knew _where_ the cells were, he just had to reach them and so he forced himself to cast his Patronus and sent the horse ahead, the pressure on his chest lightening enough to allow him to continue onwards even if the battered state of his mental health made the spell harder to maintain.

“SIRIUS?”

No reply. Not too surprising.

“SIRIUS, IT’S MASON!”

“Mason?”

Mason turned and saw the first of the cells at the very end of the hall. He ran over, the sound of his shoes slapping on the tiles echoing around the tunnels.

“Here, Mase.”

He approached the cell slowly, scared of what he would find.

Sirius’ appearance left him stunned. In just two weeks, he’d gone from a grieving twenty-one-year-old to someone Mason didn’t recognise. It was like the grief had physically eaten away at him along an accelerated timeline and he’d never seen Sirius’ cheekbones like he could now. There was something in his friend’s eyes, a madness he’d only seen in Bellatrix’s before now, but the stillness of his whole body told him that Sirius was still in there somewhere.

“He’s cleverer than we gave him credit for, isn’t he?” Sirius snapped.

There was no doubt as to who he was referring.

“How did he set you up?” Mason asked quietly, trying to stop his voice shaking.

“Starting yelling in view of the whole street about how I’d betrayed them, how could I have done that. Like he was _innocent_.”

“Smart.”

“Unfortunately for me. It was the final nail in my coffin. He blew the whole place up, including himself. And then your lot were swarming over me and I knew it was over. Didn’t stand a chance.”

Mason sucked in a breath. “I know more about Azkaban than most, thanks to the job.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” Sirius said sarcastically.

“You have to find a way to survive. You have to find a way to keep yourself sane, Sirius,” Mason warned. “Whatever it takes. Because I refuse to lose you too.”

“Haven’t you heard? Life in Azkaban,” Sirius grinned, his teeth looking sharper than Mason remembered. “I’m long gone, I’m a lost cause. I'll die in there and sooner rather than later.”

“No. Not happening. Lyra’s ill, she has been since you vanished into the night. I’m not going back and telling her you’ve lost your mind. I won’t destroy her like that, and I won’t let you do it either. You're going to have niece or nephew to stay sane for.”

Sirius blinked at him but his eyes calmed slightly, the gleaming edge to them softening somehow. “She knows I’m innocent, right?”

“She does. She pleaded for you, but Crouch has lost his mind.”

“He didn’t like his precious Junior being one right under his nose, did he?”

Mason smiled grimly. “You heard about that? Apparently not.”

Sirius laughed. “As long as you know I’m innocent then I don’t care. I got Peter, that’s all that matters.”

Mason glanced down the corridor as he felt the Dementors arriving. “We’ll do what we can. I promise you that. You’re not alone.”

“Thank you,” Sirius whispered, his shoulders dropping. “Tell Remus I’m sorry I doubted him. Tell Harry I love him. The same to Lyra and the baby. And that I'm sorry for everything.”

“I will,” Mason promised, reaching through the bars, surprised that he could but realising that a wandless Sirius wouldn’t get far on a floor full of Dementors and Ministry employees and so they hadn’t bothered magically restraining him. He gripped Sirius’ shoulder tightly, meeting his gaze and holding it, knowing it would be the last time he’d see him for a very long time. Sirius copied him, linking them together from either side of the cell door.

“Tell Ly I love her.”

“She knows,” Mason whispered. “I have to go.”

“Thank you for coming. You didn’t have to.”

“I did. Thank you for doing it for them. He deserved to pay.”

Sirius dropped his arms to his sides limply and nodded, smiling tightly.

“Goodbye, Sirius,” Mason smiled back, stepping away before pacing back down the corridor to the lifts, refusing to turn around and see his friend’s dark eyes haunting him from behind the metal bars.

* * *

Mason returned to the flat and found Lyra exactly where he’d left her, unmoving. She took one look at his expression and knew it was too late. She didn’t know exactly what had happened and she wasn’t ready to know so she just wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, feeling his own tears finally falling hot onto her shoulder as he cried bitterly.

The war was won, Voldemort had vanished, the Death Eaters were scattered and hunted, the fighting was over. Dorcas was gone. Marie, Marcus, Marlene, Mark were gone. James and Lily were gone. Sirius was gone. Countless others were grieving, or injured, or missing but as Mason held her tighter, feeling the swell of their baby between them, he reflected faintly that it could’ve been worse. They hadn’t quite reached the unsurvivable: it might just be the two of them and the baby left but as she guided him back into the bedroom, he sent a silent prayer of thanks that it was, at the very least, still the three of them, their little family somehow not getting any smaller despite the carnage around them.

Tangled on the bed, they held each other until the sun crept achingly over the horizon, illuminating their walls in golden light, rising over the first day of their new world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. Thank you all for reading x


	25. January 1982

_4th January 1982_

“Hi, sir, can I help you?”

Remus looked away from the glass to blink at the young Healer who had paused in the corridor. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at Harry asleep in his carry cot. “No, no thank you. I’m… my friend’s in there. We’re just waiting it out.”

She smiled softly and nodded. “No problem. Congratulations.”

Remus smiled back weakly. “Thank you.”

She slipped past to continue her rounds and Remus fixed his eyes back on the glass, rubbing his hand over his stubble and trying to make out what was going on in the room beyond.   
Mason had called him in a few hours ago but nothing had happened since and now Harry was settled and asleep, Remus was pacing the corridor aimlessly, waiting for any news at all.

It was another hour before the nurse reappeared. Harry had grown restless and Remus had resorted to rocking him to sleep, the toddler cradled contentedly in his arms.

“Any news?” she smiled, heading over to him and cooing at Harry.

“None yet, but I think that might be good, I don’t know much about all of this stuff,” he admitted.

The nurse looked confused seeing as he was currently holding a baby, went to brush back Harry’s fringe and then promptly froze, seeing the scar and putting it all together in an instant. Her hand dropped and she clutched them together in front of her chest, her expression softening. Everyone knew that in the absence of other family, Remus Lupin had adopted Harry Potter and while he himself wasn’t particularly recognisable, there was only one person who would be holding the Boy Who Lived.

“Are you expecting anyone else?” she asked quietly.

Remus looked back at the empty seats in the waiting room and swallowed. “No,” he said, his voice hoarse, “It’s just us, actually.”

She nodded, following his gaze and offering a sad smile. “I… I’m sorry, stupid question. I knew Marlene.”

Remus blinked as his eyes welled up. Even now, any mention of any of them brought him crashing down. “It’s… it’s her brother. Mason. It’s his kid. He’s in there now.”

The Healer’s eyes widened and her face split into a wide grin, her own eyes shining with unshed tears. “I had no idea. Marlene would love a little niece of nephew!”

“They’ve tried to keep it quiet, the Prophet’s been obsessed with him as the sole survivor and a ‘war hero’ and everything, they didn’t want the attention,” Remus added hastily, bouncing Harry as he started to stir.

She nodded and mimed zipping her mouth shut with a little grin. “They won’t hear from me, I promise.”

Remus smiled gratefully and shifted Harry so he could hold his hand out to her. “Remus Lupin. Obviously.”

She smiled again. “Hestia Jones. Nice to meet you, Remus. Let me know if you need anything, anything at all.”

“I… I will, thank you,” he accepted, turning his gaze back to the window.

She patted his elbow lightly and headed for the door, leaving Remus to keep vigil once more.

* * *

Lyra closed her eyes tiredly and tipped her head back, gripping Mason’s hand even tighter as she sucked in a deep breath and followed the midwife’s instructions yet again. She’d lost all track of time once her contractions had started properly and the only thing she knew now was the feel of Mason’s hand in hers, a cool hand on her cheek and the _pain_.

At another of her cries, Mason frowned even more, feeling like the lines on his forehead would be permanent by the time this was over. Her illness back in November had weakened her and when you combined that with the stress and grief the entire nine months, they’d known that her body was going to struggle. Even with the pre-warning and the reassurance from the Healers that everything would still be okay, he’d not stopped worrying since her waters had broken early yesterday.

The baby was early, and he knew that the Healers weren’t as relaxed as they could’ve been, but he highly doubted Lyra was aware of it as she’d been rather preoccupied. Even so, hours later and they were finally getting somewhere. Lyra was exhausted and sore and slick with sweat but they were getting somewhere, and he’d seen some of the worried expressions melting away as the hours had dragged on. First pregnancies normally had long labours, they said, things were looking good, there were no problems.

“Okay, Lyra, this could be it, I need a really big push, as much energy as you can muster. We’ll be done soon, so soon, I promise you,” the Healer said gently and Lyra licked her lips and nodded, her eyes locking onto Mason’s as he watched her, wrapping her hand in both of his larger ones and shifting nervously.

“Ready?”

Lyra nodded again and did as she was asked, screaming with the effort as the midwife kept talking, reminding her to breathe, reminding her to focus. Her grip on Mason’s hand became bruising and she threw her head back desperately before she sagged back onto the bed, praying that was it because she had nothing left to give. The sound of insistent wailing filled the delivery room after a heart stopping second and the nurses cried out in delight, springing into action around Lyra as she lay there, dazed with relief.

Her grip on his hand slowly loosened as she forced herself to take deep breaths in and out and Mason stared at her in awe, marvelling as she turned her exhausted head to look at him.

“It’s done?” she whispered.

“It’s done,” he laughed breathlessly, leaning over to kiss her forehead, smoothing her curls down and taking a steadying breath as he worked his hands free of their cramped position.

“It’s over.”

She sobbed with relief and traced his jaw, letting him wipe her forehead gently with the damp cloth.

“Here she is,” the Healer said, bringing the bundle over and Mason sat down unsteadily.

“It’s a girl?” he asked, hand on Lyra’s shoulder as she sat up carefully and took the baby into her arms, her eyes wide.

“It is,” the Healer confirmed. “Congratulations.”

She sucked in a deep breath as she felt the perfect weight of the baby in her trembling arms.

“I don’t believe it,” Lyra breathed, staring at their daughter who was mewling hungrily. “She’s… perfect.”

Mason wiped his eyes firmly but he knew it was a losing battle so he gave up and let himself cry, pressing a kiss to her hair and gazing down at the baby too, brushing his hand gently over her tiny hands, her even smaller fingernails so perfectly formed that it took his breath away.

“She is,” he agreed, laughing. “She’s so small, but… she’s all ours.”

“Did you bring the baby grow with you?” Lyra asked, dragging her eyes away from the baby to look up at him.

He grinned. “Of course.”

Lyra nodded and stroked their daughter’s head, feeling the layer of downy hair there and crying again, nodding to allow them to take her back to clean her and dress her in the tiny outfit.

“Do you want me to get Remus in or do you want some time first?” Mason asked gently, helping her sip some water.

She shook her head. “No, no, tell him, he can come in, he’s been waiting so long.”

Mason chuckled. “You didn’t half take your time, sweetheart.”

She laughed tiredly and leaned back against the pillows, her eyes following the baby around the room. “No. A lady never rushes.”

Laughing, Mason rubbed his eyes. “I might have to send him on a coffee run first. I’m… running on fumes.”

“Sorry,” she smiled, “I know I woke you. It’s been a long day.”

“Don’t apologise for going into _labour_, you’re so predictable,” Mason snorted, kissing her forehead as he stood up and stretched, working a knot out of his shoulder carefully.

The midwife handed the baby back, dried carefully and dressed in Mason’s sleepsuit.

“She’s hungry,” Lyra murmured, “I’ll do that while you tell Remus.”

“Deal,” Mason smiled, watching them for a moment before he slipped out of the room silently, not wanting to disturb them.

When he made it outside, Remus was fast asleep on the chair in the corridor, snoring softly with Harry in his arms, also asleep. Mason felt bad waking him, so he slipped past to get coffee first, returning with two mugs from the little café and gently nudging Remus.

“Hmm?” Remus mumbled, pulling himself upright at the interruption and staring up at Mason blearily. “Whassup?”

Mason laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as he marvelled at getting to say it out loud, his grin nearly split his face in two. “It’s all done. She did it. We’ve got a daughter.”

Remus scrambled to sit up properly, rubbing his eyes and waking Harry in the process, the boy looking up at Mason curiously with his big green eyes so like Lily’s.

“Y-you do?” Remus croaked, taking the coffee Mason offered greedily and gulping it down as he woke up properly. “Oh my God. _Oh my God_!”

“Yes!” Mason laughed, “Come in, honest, Lyra’s feeding her but she said you could come in.”

Remus handed Harry over to Mason so he could gather up their things and Mason held the door to allow Remus to stumble in, his grin now mirroring Mason’s.

“Good evening, Rem,” Lyra grinned back, lifting her eyes to the two men as Remus made his way over reverently, gazing down at the little girl and sinking into the chair.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Lyra whispered, shifting carefully to make space for Mason to lie Harry down in the gap on the bed next to her, smiling as the little boy refused to lie down and instead watched and the baby, pointing a chubby finger at them.

“Yes, Harry, a baby,” Remus explained.

“Baba,” Harry sang back, leaning forwards, and Remus quickly intervened before Harry ended up poking the newborn. “Hungry,” he decided, watching the baby again, before looking up to Mason and Remus.

“I think she probably is, yes,” Mason agreed, “It’s hungry work.”

“It is,” Lyra agreed.

“Do you want something?” Remus asked, “I can run and get food, I didn’t even think, I could’ve got something before.”

“Don’t worry, Remus,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I was not expecting you to have planned ahead.”

“Harry will definitely be wanting something, I might as well grab for you guys too,” he smiled, “Is he okay here? If you want some time, I can take him.”

Mason scooped Harry off the bed, making him giggle. “Nah, we’ve got him, don’t stress.”

Remus smiled and stood up again. “I won’t be long. I know what you’ll have by now, I’m on it.”

“You’re a star,” Mason promised, clapping him on the back before settling down with Harry on his lap.

Once Remus had gone and Harry was content babbling to himself and playing with one of the toys Remus had brought with them, Mason turned his focus back to Lyra. The baby was evidently full, so Lyra had leaned back again and got them both settled.

“She’s quiet, for a baby,” Mason admitted, “Harry wouldn’t shut up at all, Lily was losing her mind.”

“Well she doesn’t take after you then,” Lyra smirked. “I was a quiet baby too.”

“Of course you were a well behaved baby,” he teased.

Lyra smiled and let the baby wrap her hand around one of her fingers, transfixed.

“She needs a name. We didn’t think of any at all, we’re awful parents,” Mason snorted.

“She does,” Lyra said, biting her lip. “But… I don’t think she should be named after anyone.”

Mason watched her, his expression softening. Despite the two months they’d had together since the end of the war, it still clouded every day, like wading through mud rather than air. “I agree. That’s too much pressure on a baby. She’s her own person.”

“Precisely,” Lyra whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat. “And while I’m sure Dorcas would curse me for not having a Dorcas Junior if she were here –“

“She’s not here,” Mason finished gently, “And that’s a burden our daughter didn’t ask to carry.”

Lyra nodded, glancing up at him and smiling, glad he understood.

Harry watched the two of them quietly, his eyes searching. There was so much recently that he didn’t understand, so many faces that he wasn’t seeing any more, but he seemed to understand he should be quiet and Mason pressed a grateful kiss to the top of the boy’s unruly hair.

“I went to see James and Lily the other day,” Lyra admitted, her eyes fixed on Harry. “To speak to them.”

Mason knew she did it a lot with Dorcas’ grave, but he didn’t know she’d been to theirs too.

“I went for a walk, you know. Just around the graveyard. Remus mentioned the Muggle memorial and I stopped to read the names.”

Mason stayed quiet, not sure where she was going with this but happy to listen.

“The Muggles had their Remembrance Day on the same day as their funeral,” she whispered, “They lay wreaths and sing hymns and have a minute of silence. I… I want to go this year, I think. Even if it was mostly for the Muggles, Remus said it’s really for _all_ wars.”

Mason ducked his head, his eyes filling with tears again. “Yeah, it is. They make sure to say it’s for all wars now, it used to just be for the two Muggle wars.”

Lyra shivered at the thought of doing it all again.

“The wreaths were all of poppies, red poppies,” she continued, “And I wondered why. I went to the Muggle library and I looked it up.”

She glanced down at her daughter and smiled wetly, sniffing as she continued. “The poppies were the only flowers that would grow on the old battlefields, so now they use them to symbolise the soldiers that fought and died there.”

Mason’s eyes widened as he realised. “Poppy.”

Lyra’s bottom lip trembled as she nodded. “Poppy. Not after a person, but still remembering them.”

“Poppy McKinnon,” Mason breathed, reaching over and running his finger over the baby’s foot, watching her little toes curl up instinctively.

Lyra wiped her eyes weakly and smiled. “Exactly.”

They were quiet after that, watching Poppy gurgle and clench her tiny fists contentedly. Mason felt sure he could watch her forever.

* * *

Remus nearly knocked on the door as he entered, but he paused, seeing that all four of them were quiet, simply watching the baby in Lyra’s arms. He let the bag of food hang at his side as he took a deep breath and just watched them, not wanting to disturb the peace.

Logically, there were only five of them in the room, Lyra, Mason, the baby, Harry and himself. But the large room didn’t feel empty. In fact, and Remus thought maybe he was just finally losing it, it felt crowded. It felt full, somehow.

They should’ve had his whole family there, Marlene screeching about being an aunt, Mark insisting he wouldn’t drop the baby, the dog underfoot, Marcus and Marie already spoiling their first grandchild. They should’ve had Dorcas there, the proudest godmother you’d have ever seen. They should’ve had James and Lily holding Harry, not Mason in their place. Sirius should’ve been there pretending he wasn’t crying but definitely crying and instead he was miles away in a cell with no knowledge this had even happened yet. But it was just him and Harry, just the two of them to celebrate this, just the two of them to fill the seats outside through the long hours spent waiting.

He was happy, he _was_, but it was impossible to separate this from the grief it came along with. You couldn’t have one without the other. They’d got here, they were alive and they had a _baby_, a baby who would never know war like the one they’d survived through. But they’d had to survive through the war to get to this point.

“Remus, come over,” Lyra said gently and he snapped back to the present, padding over to them and setting the food on the edge of the bed carefully. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” he promised, smiling. “I was just thinking.”

She smiled back and he knew she’d been thinking about the same thing. “Do you feel them?”

Remus nodded slowly, gripping the edge of the bed tightly.

Mason closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. When he opened his eyes again, he seemed more settled. “We’ve named her.”

Remus grinned, glancing between them. “And?”

“Poppy Grace.”

“It suits her,” he smiled, looking back at Poppy affectionately.

“Needless to say, you’re godfather,” Lyra said shyly. “Which, before you even say it, would’ve been true even if circumstances were different. You’ve been there all along, Remus, and we’re so grateful.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Mason frowned slightly and Lyra turned to follow his gaze. “What is she looking at?”

Poppy had turned her head slightly in Lyra’s arm to look at the end of the bed, her gaze definitely focussed on something as she stretched a little hand out seemingly towards nothing.

Lyra sucked in a breath. “I think you were right, Remus. We aren’t alone.”

They all turned to look at the spot Poppy was watching, her blue eyes focussed determinedly, far sooner than most babies were able to do so.

“To new beginnings,” Mason croaked, blinking fiercely as he felt something aching in his chest finally begin to heal over.

Poppy made another little noise, whatever had caught her interest apparently no longer there and Lyra looked down at their daughter and then at Mason, smiling even as she cried.

“To new beginnings.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first multi chap that I've ever finished. I finished writing this back in December and have been posting ever since. It means so much to me, and I'm so grateful to everyone who's read this and enjoyed it. Thank you so much!!  
I may end up doing an 'epilogue' chapter so stay subscribe if that's something you'd be interested in reading!  
Much love <3


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